


Look What You Made Me Do

by SeasOfTrees



Series: Reputation [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Domestic Fluff, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Happy Ending, M/M, Sex Shop, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasOfTrees/pseuds/SeasOfTrees
Summary: In which Sirius is a hard working small business owner, Remus makes a pretty big mistake, and James and Lily just need sleep.  But it all turns out okay at the end.  Eventually.-That classic Sex Shop/Dungeon Master AU.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Reputation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1188122
Comments: 129
Kudos: 147





	1. Charm Person

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! Welcome to my ridiculous, completely self-indulgent AU.
> 
> Warnings here for: smut, rather morbid humor. Also I use the word "aesthetic" about 17 times in this chapter.

“Buy you a drink?”

Sirius’s face split in a smile.As he went to direct it towards whomever it was who’d made the generous offer, his words caught in his mouth.

The man standing beside him was not the person he would have anticipated.He’d noticed him, sure, when he’d done his survey of the room.Tall, sandy hair, tucked away in some corner, wearing a brown jumper despite the heat in the club.Sirius had figured the night would play out with the swarthy man sipping a martini on the other side of the circular bar, but no progress had been made there just yet.

He wouldn’t have figured Brown Jumper to be the type to make the first move, and generally Sirius was very good at figuring types.It was a necessity of his profession.

Sirius, who’d only just bought a refill, tossed the rest of his whiskey back in one big, throat searing gulp.He grinned at Brown Jumper.“Now you can.”

Brown Jumper flagged the barmaid down and ordered them another round.He was cuter up close, Sirius noticed, in an off-kilter, indie sort of way.The type of guy he would have wanted to date in uni.He’d since had a few too many bad dates with would-be philosophers and almost-professors.His new thing was athletic men.

Which was why he hadn’t been overly interested in Brown Jumper when he’d been looking for an easy target for the night, and instead zeroed in on the gentleman who was filling out his coat most fetchingly.

But he was definitely interested now.

“How can you be wearing that?” he asked, pinching the arm of the woolen jumper, mostly to get a feel for Brown Jumper’s arm, which felt wiry, “it’s so hot in here.”

Brown Jumper glanced down at his brown jumper, as if he hadn’t noticed he was wearing it until just then.“I’m very committed to the dark academia aesthetic,” he said after a moment, a crooked little smile on his face.

Sirius let out a surprised laugh.“Does the dark academia aesthetic traditionally involve dying of heatstroke?”

“That does feel like a dark academia way to go.Very Byronic.It’s what he would have wanted,” Brown Jumper mused airily.

“I always figured it would be the opposite.Freezing to death like an arctic explorer or drowning like Ophelia.”

“Also options.I feel as long as you fall to some sort of extreme — some absolute sensation — it’s acceptable.”

“Right,” Sirius said. _Jesus, who is this git?I like him._

“What about you?” Brown Jumper said, turning towards him with an appraising eye.

“What about me?”

“What aesthetic have you committed yourself to?”

“I wasn’t aware that was something you had to do.”

“No,” Brown Jumper admitted with a tilt of his head, “but I sense you did anyway.”

Sirius glanced down at himself.He was dressed entirely in black, which was standard for him.His leather jacket was slung over the back of his barstool.“Watered down punk with a hint of beatnik,” he said.

“Mmmm,” Brown Jumper took a long pull of his whiskey.

“Relevant aesthetic deaths include James Dean-esque automobile accidents, overdosing on barbiturates, and drowning in bathtubs.”

Brown Jumper laughed.“So what about him?”He nodded towards a man in the corner with a fascinatingly sculpted haircut.“What’s his aesthetic called?”

Sirius considered it.

“Unironic 80s Transcendental Revival.”

Remus nodded.“I can see that.”

“What about him?”Sirius waved his glass towards another pub patron.“Grey vest?”

“The Dick Pic of Dorian Grey.”

Sirius, who’d been taking a drink at the time, snorted some whiskey through his nose.He wiped furiously at his face, willing the burn away.“What?”

“I think you heard me.”

“Oscar Wilde would _never._ ”

“Of course he would,” Brown Jumper affected a posh accent, straightening a little. _Jesus_ , Sirius thought, _he’s tall_.“‘Note the bust of Phoebus Apollo, for scale.”

“Dear Lord,” Sirius rolled his eyes.

They soon found themselves a table in the corner, where, crowded close together, they started to name the aesthetics of the other customers.Sirius felt like a schoolboy, giggling with —

“What’s your name by the way?”Sirius said after they’d established that Red Trainers’s aesthetic was ‘Ironic 90s Normcore’ and the man he was chatting up subscribed to the ‘Glitterbitch’ movement.

He felt the man at his side tense — almost imperceptivly — and then he said, “It’s Remus.”

“Wait, _Remus_?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised, but maybe… no… surely that wasn’t disappointment.“You’ve heard of me?”

“Uh…” bit of a weird approach.“No, sorry.Are you famous for something?”

A relaxing.“Only my good looks and charm.”

Sirius laughed.“Right.”

“You negging me?”

“Noooo,” Sirius dragged the word out coquettishly, fiddling with the straw of his… third? … _third_ drink.“Just… well… mine’s Sirius.”

“Ah, I see,” Remus said, though he didn’t look as surprised as people normally did when they heard his name for the first time, though maybe when you go through life as a _Remus_ , you don’t get to judge.“Well, nice to meet you Sirius.Why’d your parents name you after a star?”

“Why’d your parents name you after a dead Roman guy?”

Remus shrugged.“He wasn’t Roman.Rome didn’t exist yet.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, though his lips were pulled up irresistibly in a smile.“Dark academia.I forgot.”

Remus nodded.“To the bones.They’re tweed.What about that one?”He pointed towards a rather large man in the corner.

“Cognitive minimalism,” Sirius whispered conspiratorially.

“What?”Remus laughed.

“Look at that expression and tell me that six months ago that man _didn’t_ toss all his braincells out on his bed and decide only twelve of them sparked joy.”

“Damn, Sirius,” Remus said, and the sound of his name on Remus’s tongue sorta made Things happen to Sirius’s body, “here I thought we were providing aesthetic commentary.Now I think we’ve devolved into bullying.”

Sirius shrugged and took another long pull from his drink.

Remus was still looking at the man in the corner.“But you’re right.What about the one over there, the one who looks like a fairy?”

“We’re in a gay bar, Remus.Be more specific.”

“C’mon,” Remus nudged him, smiling a smile that suggested a million inside jokes between them.It made Sirius feel very warm.“The one with the red hair, kinda short, probably has freckles if we get closer.Green vest.”

“Faecore?Fairypunk?”

“Puckpunk?”

“Pixiepunk?”

“Pixiepunk,” they chorused, nodding at each other.

Sirius looked out towards the crowd for the next target.“That one.”

“Mid-century transatlantic pseudonilihism.”

“Tumblr grant us a mood board for _that._ ”

“How about him?” 

Sirius considered the man Remus indicated.“With a collar that popped?Austenpunk.”

Remus’s smile was delighted.“Austenpunk.”

“You know… _Punk and Prejudice… Mansfield Punk_.”

Remus snickered.“What would be the aesthetically appropriate end for an Austenpunk hero?”

Sirius finished his drink.“Vapors,” he said.

The room was lovely and warm and fuzzy, and Remus didn’t seem to mind when Sirius leaned into him, his head resting within the crook of his shoulder.Remus tossed a casual arm around him and Sirius moved into the contact.He really liked tall men, he decided.

“And him?”Sirius whispered, lips very close to Remus’s ear, “the one who sort of looks like a Soviet?”

Remus took in the very stoic, very blonde man sitting alone.“Communist chic?”

“Commiecore?”

“Commradepunk.”

“Seize the modes of punk-dunction.”

“Punk-letariat?”

“Marxcore.Lennincore?Stalinpunk… no that’s not right.”

“Send the capitalist pigs to the guillotine… core.”

“I think we should institute a rule for aesthetics.”

“Yeah?” Remus had to pull back a bit to make eye contact with Sirius, and that’s how Sirius realized his eyes were a really, really pretty shade of green.“And what’s that?”

“Four words or less.Unless you use a hyphen.”

“Any limits on hyphens?”

“Nah, I can respect a man with the charisma to carry off a string of them.”

“Right, plus three at least.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Sirius just giggled. 

Remus gave him an amused look.“You know what?”

“What?”

“I am absolutely _dying_ for some chips right now.Or pizza.”

“Or chips and pizza!And pastries, like that Australian possum.” suggested Sirius — who had reached the acceptance phase of being drunk —enthusiastically.He smiled serenely.“Possumpunk.”

“Now _that’s_ an aesthetic I could commit to.”

-/-

They’d found a bench by the river, and were sprawled out possum-like on either side of a truly spectacular array of cartons and bags that once contained every known variety of carbs.

Sirius smiled out at the big black expanse of the water, occasionally catching the lights of the other side and glittering.It was one of those unfathomably perfect autumn evenings when the air was crisp and cool and full of an exhilarating sort of promise.

“Rivercore?”Sirius asked.

“Mmmm… waterpunk.”

“That just sounds like a fetish thing.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah… like water sports?Y’know… people who get off on pee and stuff?”

Remus nodded.“Right, right.Aquacore?”

“Sounds like an ocean thing.”

“Why does the ocean get all the cool water words?”Remus mused.“It’s not that special.It’s not like you can drink ocean water.”

“Very human-centric of you to think water’s only possible value is being drunk.”

“Ah,” Remus nodded sagely, running the last chip on a paper plate through the cluster of salt and popping it in his mouth, “I see.We’ve left the aesthetic part of tumblr and have reached the _discourse_.”

“It was inevitable,” Sirius said with a shrug.“Naiads and nereids.The girls are always fighting.”

“Who’s the dark academic now?”

“I’ve got a fucking Greek mythology name,” Sirius laughed.“What do you want for me?”

Remus just got up and threw away all the wrappers and plates and boxes and cups and… Jesus, they’d bought a lot of food.At least Sirius felt sober.

When he came back to the bench, Remus sat a lot closer.“That’s Orion, right?”

Sirius nodded.“Yup.And that’s me.”He pointed at his star.

“Mmmm.You’ve got a spot.”

Sirius smacked his arm playfully, which turned into a great opportunity to press in closer.For warmth, of course.It was chilly.“Do you know any more constellations?”

“Not really,” Remus admitted, leaning back and the bench and slinging an easy arm around Sirius’s shoulder.Sirius wasn’t drunk anymore, but he was still _giddy_.“I’ve always wanted to learn them.Figured it would be a sexy skill, you know?”

“Right,” Sirius said, nodding.“Like having lots of poetry memorized, or playing an instrument.Fucking Darwinian when you get down to it.”

“Exactly,” Remus agreed.

“Well, that’s Andromeda,” Sirius said, pointing, “and Pegasus.There’s Aquarius, and that’s Pisces.”

“Mmmm,” Remus’s eyes were trained on the stars, “like I said.Sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?”Sirius asked, leaning away so his smirk could be best illumined by a nearby lamppost.

Remus rolled his eyes.“You _know_ you’re sexy.”

“Maybe, but it’s always good to hear it.Understanding something objective is important, but it’s also good to know when it’s translated into subjective experience.”He had no clue what he was saying, but Remus seemed to agree.

“Right.Well — _Once in finesse of fiddles I found ecstasy, in the flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.Now I see that the warmth’s the very stuff of poesy.Oh, God, make small the old star-eaten blanket of the sky, that I may fold it round me and in comfort lie._ ”He seemed to sense Sirius’s eyes on him.“T.E. Hulme, ‘The Embankment’.”

A pause.

“So,” Sirius began, tone conversational.“My flat’s _pretty_ far away, and the odds of us having a homophobic driver are… mmm… from experience?One in five.”

“Right…” Remus said, eyes finally off the sky and on Sirius, where they belonged.

“But there’s a lovely only slightly flea-bitten hotel just a bit down the street and its owner owes me a favor.Thoughts?”

Remus stood and the crooked smile on his face was maybe the most perfect thing Sirius had seen in a very long time.“Please, lead the way.”

-/-

“Mmmm…” Remus hummed.“I just thought of a new one.”

“Mmmm?” Sirius wasn’t capable of a more erudite answer, as his mouth was currently full of cock.

“A new aesthetic…”

Sirius pulled off him, sucking in his cheeks so there was a loud _pop_ as he released Remus.“Am I to interpret that as your way of saying I give blowjobs that are so forgettable you can philosophize while receiving one?”

“No…” Remus drawled, his fingers chording through Sirius’s hair.“You give excellent blowjobs.I just tend to get philosophical when my dick’s being sucked.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s like meditation for me.”

“Right,” Sirius started tonguing the head again.

“My therapist recommends I get fellated for at least half an hour every day… I… _ah…”_

Sirius looked as smug as was possible while having his lips wrapped around a cock.Which, for him, was still rather smug.And he’d know — the hotel’s full length mirror was right beside him, so he could see an identical Sirius Black pleasuring an identical surprisingly large cock with his identical mouth.They hadn’t even made it out of the room’s entry way.They’d swiped their card, and, once the door was closed, Sirius had immediately fallen to his knees. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Remus sighed. 

Sirius relaxed his throat and took in his whole length.

“ _Agh_!”Remus’s head hit the door with a loud thud.“Fuck, Sirius.You’re so… _fuck_ …”

Sirius swallowed around him, drawing patterns with his tongue as he slowly, slowly pulled back.He’d be willing to bet real money that someone as well endowed as Remus had never been properly deep throated before.

Hell, he’d had to breathe really slow to avoid gagging, and he’d been practicing his technique on the biggest dildo in his shop for _months_.

He released Remus again, breathing heavy.He stroked him, slick with his spit, thumb playing with the pretty, swollen head.

Remus put a hand on his shoulder and started to pull him up.Sirius stood, pliant and excited as Remus brought their lips together for the first time.

There was still some salt on Remus’s lips from the chips they’d gotten earlier, and Sirius licked it off with a quick swipe of his tongue.Remus growled at that, a low, possessive sound that made Sirius want to present like a bitch in heat.Remus’s arms went around his waist, pulling them together.Sirius could feel Remus’s cock, still wet from his attentions, hard and throbbing between them.He was still fully clothed, his jeans tight and constricting around his own arousal.

He started to pull Remus backwards towards the bed, and they fell together onto the grey duvet.Sirius pulled off that brown jumper, and started to work at the — somehow also — brown shirt beneath it.Remus wasn’t being terribly cooperative, though, as he kept lathing rather distracting kisses and love bites along Sirius’s neck.

Sirius let out a little mewling sound as Remus bit a little bit harder than normal on the sensitive spot where shoulder met neck.That was certainly going to leave a hickey.That would be fun to explain at work.

Not that he cared at that moment.At that moment all that mattered was getting that _bloody_ shirt off.

Finally the last button gave way and he was able to push the shirt from his shoulders.Remus pulled back to help him.As he was going to lean back into Sirius, Sirius held his hips steady.He wanted to look at him.

His skin was pale and soft looking.Dusted with light freckles at the shoulders and a smattering of reddish-brown hair across the chest and down in a line towards his cock, which was still exposed and fully flushed and delicious to look at.But in the blunt brightness of the hotel room’s light, Sirius could see something he hadn’t noticed before.

Remus was covered in scars.Not just on his chest and arms, but also on his face.There was one running across his nose.There was one slicing across his jaw.One split his left eyebrow, ever so slightly, in half.

There was something beautifully chaotic about the effect.Looking at them, Sirius couldn’t discern any particular cause of all of those injuries.Accident?Abuse?Was it wrong, then, for him to find them — well — _aesthetically_ fascinating?

Remus had tensed above him, and for the first time in the whole night, his easy confidence was gone.There was something vulnerable and almost scared about the glint in his eyes.He was waiting for Sirius to ask about them.

Sirius decided it was none of his business.“You are so fucking lovely,” he said, and he pulled Remus down, smashing their lips back together.

They made out on the bed for a while, unapologetically sloppy and handsy.At some point Sirius’s leather jacket fell to the floor with a loud thud, and Remus peeled his black t-shit off.He tossed it behind him and it landed on the lamp placed by the window, falling just hard enough to send the cheap thing to the floor.

They both glanced at it long enough to confirm it wasn’t broken, then returned to their respective horny teenager impressions.

Remus’s hands went to Sirius’s belt.He undid the buckle and pulled the leather slowly out from the loops.

And, fuck.Sirius was already two weeks into being thirty-four.How the _fuck_ was a man simply pulling a belt off so damned erotic?

Once he’d extracted it, Remus held the belt up like a fascinating snake in a zoo display, then tossed it aside without another thought, his fingers going to Sirius’s fly.

“Can...?”

“I mean, if you touch me I might explode, but I think I’d enjoy it.”

“I don’t think exploding was on the list,” Remus said, pulling down Sirius’s zippier and palming him through the thin fabric of his pants.

“Shut up,” Sirius whispered, his smile touching Remus’s.

Remus let out a breathy laugh.“Make me.”

With that, Sirius flipped them over.

He pulled Remus’s jeans off the rest of the way, and went to do the same to his own, first extracting the condom and packet of lube he’d tucked away hours earlier in hopes of something like this very glorious moment.

Remus’s eyes were trained on the two shiny, shiny objects Sirius had placed on the pillow.He bit his lip.

Sirius tossed the rest of his clothes to the floor.Remus looked over towards him.“Holy fuck,” he whispered, sitting up, his eyes were hungry and Sirius felt like a rabbit spotted by a wolf.“You’re _perfect_.”

Sirius felt his cheeks heat at the intensity of the compliment.“What was the aesthetic?” he asked, crawling back onto the bed.

“Huh?”

“The one you came up while meditating?Remember?I was sucking your cock and you were solving world hunger or something?”

“Oh right,” Remus’s hands went to Sirius’s sides, his eyes still moving all over Sirius’s body — face, chest, abs, cock, face, chest, cock, legs, abs, face, cock — “I completely forgot.”

Sirius smiled a smile Lily had long since nicknamed the _panty melter_.“Good,” he said, and he brought their lips together.

He essentially had to sit on Remus to kiss him properly, and that meant his ass was perfectly positioned to grind down on Remus’s hardness. 

Remus hissed against him.“Fuck, you’re going to end this before we even begin if you keep doing that.”

“What?” Sirius asked, wide-eyed and innocent, “this?”And he did it again.

Remus’s fingers dug into his hips.“Now you’re just being mean.”

“How can I possibly make it up to you?” Sirius asked in as obscene a voice as he could manage.And he could manage to sound quite obscene.

Remus’s eyes darkened.“I was wondering if you’d fuck me.”

Sirius blinked.It took a moment for him to register that.All night, he’d assumed… but… _oh shit now he looks like he’s second guessing himself…_ He kissed Remus, pressing his tongue in between his lips.Remus opened for him with a sigh.

“Your wish is my command, professor,” he whispered when their lips parted.

And, yeah, that was a cheap reference to the whole “dark academia” thing, but that was also a _definite_ twitch of Remus’s cock at the word.Sirius filed that information away for later use.

He kissed Remus deeper and Remus’s fingers wrapped loosely around Sirius’s cock.Remus spread the little bead of pre-cum around his head with his thumb, a surprisingly tender movement that made Sirius whimper.

He pulled back and grabbed the lube packet.“I’m gonna prep you now, before I actually explode.”

Remus smiled and splayed his long legs wide as they’d go, shimmying his cute ass down the bed so he could present himself as completely as possible.

The sight of him so open, his gorgeous cock weeping against his stomach, sent a thrill of excitement through Sirius despite his lingering apprehension.

It had taken him a moment to do the math, but it had been three years and four months, give or take, since he’d last topped another guy.He wasn’t certain he even remembered _how_.

But he was gonna figure it out.He was going to fuck Remus so hard he’d forget his own name.He was Sirius fucking Black, semi-professional sex guru and purveyor of erotic goods.He had it on the good authority of several people that he was a fantastic lay, and weird as it sounded, he’d never wanted to be good for anyone in the way he wanted to be good for Remus.

_Jesus, Black, don’t get in your own head about this.It’s just a fuck_.

He ripped open the packet and squeezed some of the lube out onto his fingers, rubbing them together to ensure it was warm by the time he reached a hand down between Remus’s legs.

He pressed in close to Remus, kissing along his neck as his fingers found the tight ring of muscle.He prodded it gently, teasing, the way he liked it.

Remus let out a little hiss, and Sirius could feel him tighten up.

“Hey,” he whispered, “it’s alright.We’ll go slow, you’ve just got to relax.”

Remus let out a shaky breath.“Sorry… it’s been a while for me.”

Sirius kissed his cheek.“Don’t worry.I’ll make it good for you.Here, I’ll give you something to think about.”And he readjusted their positions so he could suck Remus off as his fingers continued to toy with his entrance.

Remus let out a gasp, squirming under the duel sensations.“God… Sirius… fuck…”

Sirius swallowed him down, and Remus relaxed enough he was able to start to push the first finger in.

“Aaah…” Remus spread his legs wider.

Sirius bobbed his head, working Remus up to the second finger, then the third.Searching… searching…

“ _Fuck_!”Remus’s back arched as Sirius pressed against his sweet spot, moaning around the twitching cock in his mouth.“ _Fuck_ , Sirius… you’re so…”

But Sirius was relentless — he pressed against that spot again, and again, and again, sucking Remus all the way down, his other free hand going to massage his balls. 

Remus wasn’t letting out words, not really.Instead he released a series of broken sounds, hips twitching but not thrusting up, the result, Sirius figured, of years of lovers telling him off for jerking his hips and accidentally gagging them with his stupid big dick.

The next complete English words Remus managed to choke out were, “fuck… I’m… coming!”

And come he did.

Sirius pulled off in time (remembering that they hadn’t talked about STIs before they started… he was going to give himself a proper talking-to for that later) and watched in absolute _aesthetic_ (goddamnit) rapture as Remus spilled onto his hand, the smooth skin of his stomach, even a bit on his own chest.

When he was done, he locked eyes with Sirius, breathing heavy.“How do you want me?”

Sirius swallowed.That was a good question.“Like this,” he said, hands stroking to Remus’s hips.“If that works for you?”

Remus laughed.“Yeah, that works for me.”

They moved through the somewhat unsexy motions of preparing for the next phase of the night.Sirius put the condom on (inspecting it first).Remus wiped his come away with a tissue and put a pillow under his hips.

Sirius guided himself inside slowly.The vice-like heat of it was mind-melting.God, he’d forgotten how good it could feel.“Fuck, Remus,” he sighed, face pressed into the crook of Remus’s shoulder.

He eased himself in in small increments.A little out, a little in, a little sigh, a little prayer to whatever saint or god or primordial entity it was that prevented premature ejaculation.

He got the sense that it had been a while for Remus, too.He was doing his best to relax, but Sirius, who had maybe logged all 10,000 hours necessary to officially master bottoming, recognized the signs of someone who did not normally have something this thick and — he flattered himself — long inserted in that particular part of his body.

The knowledge that Remus had chosen to take on this role, to _give_ himself to Sirius in that way, made not coming all the harder.

It took them some trial and error, but they were both team players and both working towards the same outcome.A rhythm was negotiated with minimal speaking and quite a few rather telling groans. 

Sirius pumped into Remus’s perfect, tight heat, clumsily angling his thrusts to find all the good spots inside of Remus.

Remus was a vocal lover, quick to give feedback, and not afraid to pull Sirius into whatever position would best create the desired effect.Sirius was more than willing to work with him.

Remus was starting to get hard again, and Sirius stroked him back to full hardness, strokes just barely out of time with thrusts.Remus tightened around him as Sirius gave him what really was a sloppy, distracted hand job.

Remus didn’t seem to mind too much.He ground his hips into Sirius, back arching, lovely, lovely cock all hard and red and beautiful, skin smooth, shaft iron-hard.

Sirius’s dating resume, professional background, and general history made him something of an authority on the subject, so it was not a mere coitus-induced fancy when he thought that Remus must’ve had the finest cock in all of Britan.Top shelf cock.Museum quality cock. UNESCO needed to list it a heritage cock.That cock was a national treasure. 

He was so focused on the profound beauty of Remus’s cock, that he was able to bring him off a second time (with loving, gentle, aesthetically appreciative strokes) before he gave in to the soul-affirming pleasure of fucking into his tight heat and coming with a choking, animalistic cry.

There was a minute or so of catching breath and enjoying the delicate fingers studying the lines of his spine.They said little as their breathing slowed and they moved through the steps of cleaning themselves up and tucking into bed.Sirius wanted to make the night last longer, so look at more stars or talk about something else, but he found himself drifting off, Remus a warm presence at his side.He made a mental note to suggest a nearby spot for breakfast in the morning, and soon he was asleep.

-/-

“And when I woke up in the morning,” Sirius said, “he was gone.”

James nodded, bouncing his son on his knee in a similar rhythm, so it looked like Harry was nodding, too.“He sounds like a great guy for you.Do you have his number?”

“That’s the problem!” Sirius moaned.“We never exchanged numbers.I don’t even know his last name.”

“Ah,” James said.“I see the problem now.And he just left?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, deflating a little.It was insane.He’d just wanted to get laid last night.It wasn’t supposed to be that deep, but he’d thought about Remus all morning.“I don’t know if I did something wrong or if he’s just the type to leave without saying goodbye… or…”

The abrupt end to it all made him fixate.Had he done something wrong?

“It’s weird,” James said.“From the way you described him, he didn’t sound like the type.”

“The type to what?”Lily said, still toweling off her wet hair as she walked into the kitchen.“Who are we gossiping about?”

Harry, who’d recently started to perfect the mechanics of standing, clambered up on his father’s lap (with only minimal support from James needed, Sirius noted with some pride) and reached out towards Lily.“Aaamaa.”

“Kiss ass,” James muttered, handing Harry off to a cooing Lily.

“He only wants me for my boobs,” Lily said, hitching her son up on her hip.“If you had milk on tap, he’d get excited whenever you walked in the door, too.”

James gave the breasts in question an appreciative smile, then looked back up at his wife.“We’re talking about Sirius’s soulmate.”

Sirius threw a crumpled up napkin at his head.It bounced off and landed in James’s tea.

“Your _soulmate_?” Lily asked, adjusting Harry at her side and leaning in closer.James fished the sopping napkin out from his mug.“Don’t tell me Sirius ‘Take No Prisoners, Meet No Relatives, Spend No Holidays’ Black is finally about to settle down.”

“Well,” James hedged, examining the tea as if to determine if it was still drinkable, “there’s one problem.”

“What’s that?”

Sirius sighed, swirling the remains of his own tea in its mug.“I don’t have any way of contacting him.”

“Ah,” Lily said.

“Guess it’s karma,” Sirius mused.“God knows how many people I’ve done that to.”

“And you think they all summoned their best friends from some _very much needed sleep_ to complain about it at…” James checked the clock… “nine the next morning?”

“I mean… some of them, I’d figure,” Sirius said, twirling a stray lock of hair in his finger.“I am a dream, after all.”

Harry started fidgeting, making sounds similar to an old lawnmower shuffling through its handful of false starts in preparation for a proper wail.That seemed to be the determining factor in the tea question for James.He swallowed the rest of it down in a few quick gulps.

“So,” Lily said, doing some sort of bouncing/burping maneuver in an attempt to avoid a Harry Fit.“What are you gonna do about it?Hire a private investigator?Put out Lost posters?Does Craigslists still have that ‘Missed Connections’ board?”

“No, Lily,” Sirius sighed, resigning himself.“It’s just a one night stand.It’s not a big deal, anyway.I’m sure I’ll forget all about him soon enough.”


	2. Identify

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Tasteless jokes and brief mentions of sexual assault (not at the same time).

“You’re zoning out again.”

Sirius glared at his cousin.“I am not.”

“You’ve priced that vibrator 3 times.”

“Get off the counter,” Sirius said, peeling the other two stickers off with his nail.

Tonks hopped down, glancing at the decorative mirror in the corner to ensure her pink pixie cut was the fashionable amount of messy.After fixing the damage, she turned her attention back to Sirius.

“Still thinking about your mysterious stranger?”

“No,” he lied, going to the corner case to put the new vibrators out.

“C’mon,” Tonks said, “it’s been _months._ I’ve _never_ seen you like this about anyone.You _have_ to track him down.What if he’s the _one_?”

It had been months.That was the problem. Winter had come.The Christmas decorations went up, the Christmas decorations went down.He’d made a list of New Years Resolutions and had already broken all of them, and there had been no sign of Remus.Valentine’s candy was on the main display, then the discount bin, then gone, and Sirius never saw him at the shops or on the street.Orion wasn’t in the sky anymore.

He’d gone on dates, but he hadn’t liked any of them as much as he’d liked Remus.Remus had become the bar against which he’d measured all his other partners, and they always came up short.

Mentally and physically: he was still fantasizing about that massive cock. 

One afternoon he examined every dildo he sold in his shop, figured out which one was the most similar to Remus’s dimensions, and bought it for himself.It lived in his nightstand, with frequent trips to his bed for good behavior.

He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.He was pining — properly pining — something he hadn’t done in a very long time.

He’d never gotten the opportunity to know Remus properly, Lily had philosophized one night when she caught Sirius staring wistfully out a window.Since he knew so little about him, Sirius could fill any gaps of knowledge in with wish-thinking.Remus was the perfect man because Sirius hadn’t had a chance to learn his flaws.What real person could stand up to that?

Sirius knew the proper answer was no one, but when Lily had said it, that small, thirsty voice that ruled his mind whispered: _Remus_.

Not that he was going to tell Tonks all that.“Did you finish the cock ring display?” he asked.Which was a totally normal thing for him to ask his baby cousin nowadays.

“Yes, Mum.It’s been done since the last time you asked about it.”

“Right,” Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tonks wandered off to help a woman with a display of handcuffs.

Why he’d let Andromeda talk him into hiring her kid, he’d never know.Sure, she was helpful and friendly.And she cleaned.And was punctual and didn’t steal from the till like some of his former employees… but, goddamnit, he remembered when she born.Or at least when his parents had sneered that cousin Andromeda and her horrible husband had _bred_.

He’d been thirteen.He’d figured he’d never meet her.

Now he discussed the advantages and disadvantages of different types of lube with her.

And she knew _far_ too much about his sex life.

Tonks had used every tactic short of waterboarding to coax the story of his evening with Remus out from him.And now it was her favorite topic of speculation.

“Still got that far-off look, I see,” Linda said, approaching the counter with a box of dental dams and a new strap-on.“He can’t have been _that_ good.”

_Dear fucking God._ The hotel had seemed like _such_ a good idea at the time.“Good afternoon to you as well, Linda.Will that be cash or charge?”

Linda smiled, handing him her card.“You know I’m just teasing, love.If you ever need to make use of one of my finer rooms again, be sure to let me know.”

“He’s been like this all morning,” Tonks said conspiratorially, wandering back to the counter.“Must be the phase of the moon or something.”

“Maybe its their anniversary,” Linda said with a wolfish grin.“How long has it been, Sirius?Four months?Five?”

Sirius packed up Linda’s purchases stoically as he could manage.Years of experience had taught him it was better to just submit to the snickers and jibes rather than shoot anything back. 

Sirius had a strict confidentially policy.He never spoke or speculated about his customers’ sex lives.It was a matter of professional integrity on his part.His customers, of course, rarely felt the need to extend him the same courtesy.

“I’m just playing, love,” Linda said, smacking his arm lightly.“I’m happy you had a good time.”

“Thank you,” he said with a plastered-on grin.“I appreciate your concern.Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Linda shook her head.“No, dear.Just keep being your wonderful self.If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you’ll see him again.See you Tuesday,” she said, waving as she left.

“Is she going to be reading at the poetry slam again?” Tonks asked, a little dismayed. 

“I thought you liked her poetry?”

“I did… but if her girlfriends come… like Janice… or Maggie… or _Rita_ …”

Sirius furrowed his brow.“They aren’t that bad.”

“Rita tried to pinch my bum!”

“Wait, did she?”Sirius asked, surprised.“I’ll talk to Linda.I don’t want any of that shit here.”

“Well, no so much pinch… but…” Tonks trailed off.“I’m a bit young for her, you know?”

“By about forty years, yeah.”

“Doesn’t seem to stop her.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to Linda.Let her know Rita isn’t welcome here.”It wasn’t the first time he’d had to blacklist someone from the shop.God knew it wouldn’t be the last.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.A text from Regulus: **Can I crash at yours tonight?I’ll buy pizza.**

Sirius sighed.

“I know that sigh,” Tonks said, hopping back up on the counter and trying to get a good look at Sirius’s phone.“That’s your Regulus and His Boyfriend Got in Another Fight Sigh.”

“I mean… he didn’t explicitly say _fight_.”

“Mmmm… well, that new rose gold vibrator says he got in a fight with Flynn.”

“Tonks, if you want to buy the vibrator, you have an employee discount.I’m trying to run a business here, I can’t just give all my merchandise away.”

“So you’re acknowledging that it was probably a fight.”

“Of course it was probably a fight.I doubt he just wanted to have a brother-brother sleepover.Now go on your lunch break. _And get off the fucking counter._ ”

-/-

Regulus Black had wasted no time in making himself at home at his brother’s place.Sirius supposed that wasn’t odd, given how often he’d taken refuge on his sofa.

“So what was the row about this time?” Sirius asked as he hung his keys on their hook and pulled a piece of pizza out of the box, lifting it high in the air as the mozzarella string grew and snapped.

“Good to see you as well, Sirius,” Regulus muttered, already wearing Sirius’s old football sweatpants and clutching a pillow to his chest. _Love Island_ was blaring on the TV.

“And why are you watching that shit?” Sirius asked, turning it down.“Did you know you lose 30 braincells for every minute you spend looking at this type of stuff?”

“30 entire braincells?That’s about half of a 100 right?”

“How lovely our ancestors never married into any of those _foreign_ families.Math is such a vulgar pursuit.”

Reg nodded.“That’s us: wellbred as the English bulldog.Can’t do math for shit, but God save whatever animal we’re being directed at.”

“Is the bulldog’s inability to do math notable among canines?”

Regulus smiled.“Yeah, at shows they give the dogs thirty algebra problems to work through.If the bulldog gets any of them right, its disqualified.Judges figure it means there was a border collie or something somewhere in the bloodline.”

“You know, I read that if you yank too hard on a bulldog’s leash, its eyes pop out.”

“Sirius, my sex life is none of your business.”

Sirius snorted.“Move over.”

Regulus shuffled to the other side of the sofa, still curled around the pillow.

“Really, what happened?You two were doing well for a while there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning.”

“You’re going back to him?”

“Yeah.Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, because he’s a prat?”

“Look, I know you never liked him—”

“Really?I was trying to hide it.”

“Shut up. _I_ like him, so I’d appreciate it if you’d support me in my decisions.”He hugged the pillow closer.“I’m an adult.”

Sirius decided not to comment.Instead he just turned the volume back up and watched television with his brother.

After a while, though, it got to him.“I don’t get it.What’s the appeal of these people?Sure, they’re attractive — some of them — but they’re all so… so… vapid.”

“Right,” Regulus said wryly, “none of them could possibly compare to your Brown Jumper Man.”

“That sounds like the worst superhero ever.”

“Maybe, but he was given the gift of invisibility.”

“Shut up.”

“Mind melting…”

“Shut up.”

“Also apparently he’s got the biggest cock known to man.”

“I’m never going for drinks with you again.”

“Tonks is worried about you.”

Sirius let his head fall back against the sofa.“Has Tonks heard of this cool new thing the kids are doing today called ‘minding your own fucking business’?”

“Eh, you know Tonks isn’t the type to slavishly follow trends.Besides, so’s Andromeda.”

“Well, _she_ —“

“And Ted.And also me.We’re all worried about you.”

“Dear God, what is this, an intervention?”

“No, I think they call it unconditional familial love.”

“Gross.”

Regulus snorted, then his face turned more serious.“Just go on a few dates.That’ll shut them up for a while.”

“I have gone on a few dates.”

“ _Finish_ a few dates,” Regulus said significantly.

Sirius narrowed his eyes “What happened to _my sex life is none of your business_?”

“Because I’ve been known to go for a while without getting laid.You… not so much.”

“Are you slutshaming me?”

“No, I’m concerned because your normal level of sluttiness has fallen to the wayside.I’m Slut-couraging you.Slut-scribing you.Slut… yeah whatever.Just go have sex and Andromeda will get off our backs.And if you don’t want to, lie.”

“And if I don’t want to lie?”

“Then expect her to casually invite some of her friend’s gay sons to dinner every now and then and act like you’re surprised.Or maybe join the clergy.”

“Now _that_ would shut her up.Would I have to sell my sex shop first?”

“Nah, I’d say use it as a front.Tuck a pamphlet into your customers’ bags.Start a ministry in the back.Reel them in with sex then surprise them with Jesus.”

Sirius shuddered at the thought.They were closing in on two decades now, but some jokes, he figured, would always feel too soon.“I’ll re-download tinder.Will that be good enough for now?”

“I’ll inform the committee,” Regulus said with a smile, turning the volume back up on his stupid show, “it should buy us some time.”

-/-

“Which one _are_ you?” Sirius whispered, comparing the five — count them, _five_ — group photos this… Sean character had compiled for his tinder profile.Sirius shifted between them, trying to average the faces out.He’d narrowed it down to either the tall man with the large mole under his left eye, or the short man with the close-cropped hair and affinity for Manchester United t-shirts.Not that it really mattered — he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue a man who’s bio read: “Here for a good time not a long time.Hmu 420.”

He dismissed the bio with a left swipe and felt like a snob — a snob who was eating instant ramen on a cheap plastic chair with his elbow resting on a stack of vibrator catalogs, but a snob nonetheless.

A notification flashed across the top of his screen.One of his matches had sent him a message: **Drinks Friday at 8?**

Sirius didn’t even bother to check to see who it was.He just suggested a local pub and left it at that.He didn’t really care.None of the men he’d seen were Remus, though every time he swiped away, he was certain he’d find his profile.It was like a sick, sad lottery, and none of his tickets won.

God, he was feeling pathetic.Regulus was right.He really did need to get laid.

He glanced up at the clock and shoved the rest of his lunch down his throat, barely tasting the suggestion of chicken in the sea of salt.He tossed back the rest of his lukewarm coffee and went to go take over the till.

“Anything blow up while I was away?” he asked Tonks, who’d just handed a very large bag to a giggling young couple with a smile.

“Just our sales.Guess who just sold that sex swing you’ve been trying to get rid of for five years?”

“Really?” Sirius asked, perking up.He glanced at the spot on the wall where the damn thing had been displayed for years, and it was gloriously empty.“Fucking _finally_.”

“I am a genius, I know.”

“Alright, alright, kid, don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” Tonks said, laughing.“Hi!” she perked up, assuming her customer service voice.“Ready to be rung up?Would you like any toy cleaner or lube?”

Sirius smiled privately at her voice, still looking at that spot on the wall.God, now he could finally put something else there.Maybe a nice piece of art?Or he could move the paddle display… it was starting to get a bit cramped…

“No, thank you.”

Oh fuck. _Oh fuck_. 

He recognized that voice.

Sirius spun on his heels, and there was Remus: locking eyes with him, red-faced, and holding a giant purple dildo.

Sirius could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears.Everything else faded away, and it was just the two of them and the horrible moment.

Tonks pushed the transaction along, taking Remus’s money and packing up his purchase, chipper as ever.

“There you go, sir,” she said, blinding smile.“Have a nice day!”

That snapped Remus out of whatever it was he’d been snapped into, and he took the bag, very formally, with two hands, giving Tonks an awkward sort of bow.He turned, back stiff, and left, somehow stilted and hurried at the same time.

“Alright,” Tonks said to the closed door, “what the fuck was that?”

“What?” Sirius asked, blinking out of the trance he’d just been in.

“ _That_ …” she gestured towards the door.“You two know each other, obviously, but you didn’t — wait!”She perked up, eyes wide.“Wait, wait, wait.That was _him_ wasn’t it?Brown Jumper?It was that man you met.”

“It… uh…”

“Oh my god!”She jumped up and down a little.She landed and looked back towards the door.“He was cute.Not your normal type.Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

“Because…” why hadn’t he?

“Never mind,” she said with a wave of her hand.“I’ll be right back.”

And then she dashed towards the door.

“Tonks!No! _Tonks_!”Sirius called after her, but it was already too late.She was gone, and the couple in the corner by the erotic graphic novels were looking at him funny.He gave them a sheepish grin, then stood there, stewing in his anxiety.

Remus clearly had been surprised to see him.And the surprise didn’t appear to be pleasant.For the millionth time, he asked himself, _what did I do wrong?_

He was running through the night yet again when Tonks returned with a triumphant grin.“Wipe that look off your face, Sirius.You’ve got a coffee date tomorrow.”

-/-

Sirius scanned the coffee shop for Remus, so nervous he actually overlooked him the first time.Remus noticed him first, and gave him an awkward wave.

“Hey,” he said when Sirius arrived at his table, a half-empty cup of black coffee in front of him.A tattered paperback was placed quite virtuously on the table, but judging from its rather perfect positioning and Remus’s nervously hopping knee, Sirius was willing to bet it had gone completely untouched.

“Hi,” Sirius said, moving forward to — what?Hug him?Shake his hand?

He decided against both and simply sank down into the seat opposite Remus.

“Do you— do you want to get a drink?” Remus asked.

“I—“ the idea of eating or drinking anything, frankly, made him want to vomit.“I had a coffee earlier,” he lied.

Remus nodded.The conversation dropped.Already, Sirius was regretting his decision to come.Clearly, Remus hadn’t wanted to see him again.

“So how have you been?” he asked after a moment of unsure silence.It felt like an innocent enough question.

“I’ve been… good,” Remus said.He cleared his throat.“Yeah, good.”

“Okay.Good.”

“And you?”

“I’ve been good too.”

“Good,” Remus said.“That’s… that’s good.”

“How are you liking—“ Sirius gestured towards the book at Remus’s side, reading the title for the first time, “ _A History of English Poetry_?”

“Just started it,” Remus said, like he was having a goddamned tooth pulled.

_Oh, for fucks sake._

“Alright,” Sirius said, “this is…”

“Painfully awkward,” Remus agreed, smiling that crooked smile.“Couldn’t agree more.”

“Why did you ask me out for coffee?You clearly didn’t want to see me again.”

And he wanted Remus to deny that.He wanted Remus to tell him some wonderful, plausible story about missed opportunities and emergency calls early in the morning and wind blowing phone number-inscribed napkins out of hotel windows.Tales about going to get them coffee and losing his key.Sirius was willing and able to believe anything.Anything that didn’t boil down to _I just didn’t want to see you again._

Remus just winced.“Your… friend was adamant,” he said after a moment.“She — well, it seemed wiser to do what she said.”

The words felt like a punching the gut, but a punch he’d been expecting.He grimaced through it.“It usually is.”

“And besides, I felt I owed you an explanation.”

“You don’t,” Sirius said quickly, because it was the right thing to say.

“Right,” Remus said.“I still want to give you one, all the same.I… I don’t usually do things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Hooking up with someone right after meeting them.And… well…” he trailed off and drank some more coffee.

“Alright, so… did it make you uncomfortable?What we did?”

“I… no.Look, I really enjoyed our — our time together.It’s — well — things are complicated.”

Sirius digested that slowly.“Alright.”

“I — well — I, uh, I recently got out of a three-year long relationship.”

“Okay, so… what?You felt guilty about using me as a rebound?Because if that’s the case, don’t worry.That doesn’t bother me.”

“No.That’s — that’s not why I felt guilty.”

Sirius frowned.“So why did you feel guilty?Was it a religious thing?Or do you just not like one night stands?I know we went fast.I never even caught your last name — what is it, by the way?If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Lupin,” Remus Lupin said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Mine’s Black.”

Remus’s brow furrowed.“I know.”

That sent a roll of apprehension through Sirius.He was certain he hadn’t told him.“How do you know?”

Remus signed.“My ex — he cheated on me.A lot.For a long time.Some people I knew about, others I didn’t,” Remus’s fingers went to his collarbone, as if to fiddle with a necklace, but he wasn’t wearing one.His hand went back to the table, wrapping around his mug.In the daylight, Sirius saw he had several small scars across the back of his hand as well.“ _He_ was the one who broke it off. He said he was leaving me for someone else.Then he blocked me on everything and refused to tell me anything else.That was almost a year ago.I wasn’t in a good place.I pressed a mutual friend, she was vague.Said he was seeing someone named Black, celestial sort of first name,” he wrinkled his nose, eyes moving at last from his coffee to Sirius.“I went to Facebook and all I could find was you.I held your face in my mind as the _other woman_ , so to speak.I considered contacting you, but I already felt like the biggest stalker int he world, so I stopped.I tried to put it all behind me, then a few months later I saw you at that bar andwell… it was a completely spur-of-the-moment decision.I thought you were dating Flynn, so I thought I’d get back at him and--“

“Wait.Wait, wait, wait,” Sirius cut in, stomach turning.“Flynn?Your ex-boyfriend is named Flynn?”

“Yeah.”

“My— my brother is dating someone named Flynn.”

Remus looked very, very tired.“I know.”

_Of course he does_ , Sirius thought.“Alright,” he sighed.“I’ll bite.How do you know _that_?”

“Because,” Remus cleared his throat and leaned in closer, “because after we — well — I may have sent a text to Flynn.He’d recently unblocked me on his phone because of dog stuff… anyway, I sent him a text saying I’d banged his boyfriend, and a few minutes later he sent me a rather… explicit picture of your brother in the bed next to him, informing me that I was quite mistaken.”

“He sent you a naked picture of my brother?”

“I deleted it!” Remus said, hands out in a defensive sort of position.“I promise.”

Sirius rested his temple against his knuckles, his head all static.“So what happened next?”

“Nothing,” Remus said, almost surprised Sirius asked.“I went to lick my wounds, stayed away from Facebook, and spent every night since then ruminating about what an utter ass I was.I’m really sorry.I should never have used you like that.It was selfish and cruel of me and I regret it.”

The speech felt rehearsed, like he’d been turning it over in his head for a long time.

Sirius just sat there, the whole picture falling into place, piece by horrid piece. Really the only words that he could absolutely recognize at that moment as discernible English were: _I regret it._

“So… yeah,” Remus said.“That’s what happened.I get it if you never want to see me again.Or if you want to punch me or something.You have every right to be angry.”

“I guess I do,” Sirius said lamely.Remus’s story seeped into him slowly, like water into oversaturated soil.His mind was awash with a mindless sort of bad noise.“Well, thanks for explaining everything.”

Remus’s smile was pained.“Of course.”

“I think… I think I’ll go now,” Sirius said.

Remus’s shoulder slumped a little, but his facial expression was polite.He stood.“I really am sorry for all of this,” he said.

Sirius shrugged, yanking the edges of his lips up into a smile.“Don’t worry about it.”

-/-

“Alright,” Tonks said, lining up the last of the tea bags in their little tray, “I’ve heard a lot of crazy stories in my time, but I’ve got to say, accidentally having revenge sex with the wrong brother has got to be one at the top of my crazy list.”

“I’m glad my train wreck of a love life is a source of joy for you,” Sirius said stiffly, unfolding the last chair.“Guess it should be for someone.”

Tonks stood a little straighter, biting her lip.“I’m sorry it turned out so shitty,” she said.“I know you really liked him.I’d hoped things would have… I mean…”

Sirius gave her a weak smile.“I know your heart was in the right place, Tonks.I was hopeful, too.Either way I’m glad we got a chance to talk about it.Now I know what happened.At least I got a funny story out of it.”

“And we know for a fact that Flynn is an utter dick,” Tonks said with maybe a little too much satisfaction.“Are you going to tell Reg about it?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said quietly.He’d been mulling that over all afternoon. “Not yet, I don’t think.There’s no point in stirring up shit that doesn’t have to be stirred.”

“Speaking of shit stirring,” Tonks said with a grin Sirius could only describe as _gross_ , “did you see the size of that dildo Remus bought?Thing was stupid looking.”

“Okay, ew, for starters,” Sirius said, wrinkling his nose.“But yeah, that’s… ambitious.”Generally Sirius tried to talk customers down from the very biggest of his stock, if he sensed they weren’t experienced enough for it.People’s eyes were often bigger than their stomachs.Or other things.“I know for a fact that’s a bit more than the boy could realistically take.”

Tonks let out a snort.“Maybe we should start selling bottom starter packs.You know: five bottles of lube, a small butt plug, a tiny dildo, and a choker.”

Sirius laughed.“Are we going to sell intermediate and advanced ones, too?”

“Of course.And we’ll have the super-mega advanced one.Call it the ‘Sirius Special’.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose.“Is it just the general family consensus that I am an irredeemable whore?”

“Not irredeemable.We all admire your whorishness.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.“Go unlock the door.It’s nearly eight.”

“You still have that date this week, right?” Tonks asked, going to the door.

“Yes.”

“Cool.On an unrelated note, that new shipment of lube finally arrived, but I didn’t have a chance to process it before we closed.”She turned her attention to the woman at the door.“Hi, Linda!”

“Hello, dear,” she said, distractedly shuffling through some papers in her bag.“How’ve you been?”

“Sirius and I were just discussing potential new products for the shop,” Tonks said, grabbing a mug and steeping Linda’s preferred herbal blend in the some of the hot water Sirius had put out.

“Oh?” Linda asked, eyes scanning the — Sirius flattered himself — extensive collection and variety of wares.“Was there something you didn’t have before?Or has something new been invented?” she asked with a bright, interested glimmer in her eye.

There was no one Sirius aspired to be like when he grew up quite as much as that 72-year-old polyamorous lesbian.

“More just a care package for the less experienced,” Sirius said, now starting to consider Tonks’s suggestion.Maybe he’d find some cute little gift boxes somewhere and print off some labels…

“Ah, well,” Linda gave a good-natured little wave.“Suppose that hardly applies to me anymore.”She set her bag down and whispered to Sirius: “ _And Rita’s no longer part of my circle.I’m sorry she caused problems for Tonks, but I told her not to come around here anymore._ ”

Sirius shot her a grateful smile, his eyes flickering over to Tonks.“Thanks.I’d say I’m sorry to hear about the break up, but…”

Linda laughed.“But.”

More people were starting to file in, and Sirius went about his hosting duties as Tonks checked in with each poet on the roster, letting them know when they could be expected to take the makeshift stage.Sirius observed it all with a bit of smugness.They’d started their Sex Poetry Slams a few months earlier, and the crowd had grown respectably since then.Some of the poets were even good.

Sirius grinned as James and Lily came in, both nervously tapping the sides of their phone.

“Dear God,” he said breezily, “I forgot how horrible you look in this lighting, Prongs.”

“Ha-ha,” said James, refreshing something on his phone and then glaring up at Sirius, heavy bags under his eyes sharpening the look.“I am operating off of like five minutes of sleep and waiting for the sitter to tell us the house caught fire.”

“Still no word on whether the microwave has exploded,” Lily chipped in, her own eyes exhausted.She fell into one of the plastic chairs towards the back with a dissociative sort of resignation.

“Though I figure if there was an explosion, maybe it would damage the sitter’s phone beyond use.”

“Think we should go back?” Lily asked.

“This is your first time leaving the house without Harry since he was born, right?”

Lily blinked, and the blink lasted five times the length of a normal blink.It was disconcerting to watch.James lowered himself into the seat beside Lily as gently as a crane operator setting a roof down on a building.

“Can I get you two anything?” Sirius asked.“Cakes?Biscuits?Tea?” he leaned in.“I can also sneak into the back room and make you some coffee.I know the owner.”He gave them an exaggerated wink.

“Coffee…”Lily said, like a zombie slowly regaining its power of speech.

“Coffee it is,” Sirius said, glancing over at Tonks to make sure nothing had exploded on his end during their exchange.She was laughing with someone wearing a band t-shirt Sirius didn’t recognize and combat boots that looked like they should be banned by the Geneva Convention.Linda was adjusting the mic to her rather minuscule height.Sirius figured he could be spared for a moment.

He leaned against the small counter in the break room, watching as coffee slowly dripped into the pot, his thoughts wandering, as they often did in such quiet moments, to Remus.Unpleasant energy swirled around his stomach.He’d gotten his explanation, what more was there to fret over?He’d get over it in time, he knew.

He checked his phone, a reflex more than anything else.His tinder match — Matt — had sent him another message. **We still on for drinks tomorrow?**

**Course.See you at 8 ;)**

Sirius really, really hoped he liked Matt.

He slipped back into the shop, mug in each hand, as Linda ground out a verse about a woman she’d loved back in the eighties. 

James and Lily took the mugs reverently as if Sirius had just handed them their second and third children, and together the three watched Tonks keep the roster going on time.

“Oh,” Lily said as a young woman who’d just recited a sonnet about her ex-girlfriend moved off stage and a middle-aged married couple went to replace her, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.”She reached into her bag and pulled out a flyer, handing it over to Sirius.

It was, like everything Lily and James had since their little bundle of joy had entered the world, crumpled, stained, and a little damp.But Sirius could still make out the message.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” he asked.“What?”

“I remember you mentioning you’d always wanted to play it.I saw that flyer while I was at the library.Apparently there’s a local game shop that does meet-ups for people looking to start new games.I thought it might be an opportunity for you to meet new people.”

“Lily, are you seriously suggesting I use _Dungeons and Dragons_ to pull?”

“No,” she said, whispering as the couple on stage acted out a poetic duet, “but I thought it might be fun for you — you know, making some platonic connections?And maybe a hobby will help you get your mind off of… well…”

Sirius felt his stomach tighten, as it always did when they mentioned Remus.He hadn’t had a chance to tell them about their conversation that afternoon yet.Lily had no clue how right she was.

“Just tell me you’ll think about it,” Lily whispered.

Sirius shoved the flyer in his pocket, moving to clap as the couple moved from the stage.“Fine,” he said, “I’ll think about it.”


	3. Entangle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!
> 
> Don't think there's anything in this chapter that merits a warning.

Sirius had really tried to like Matt.

And, well, he succeeded in _liking_ Matt. Matt seemed lovely. Matt was kind. Matt was sweet. Matt was almost handsome.

But Matt was boring as all hell. It wasn’t the aggressive type of boring — the boring of maiden aunts at weddings, of administrators at conferences, of tax preparers just trying to shuffle you through. It was that unintentional, tragic, deep down boring. The boring that crept up on you slowly. The boring wrapped in so many layers of unrelenting niceness that when the realization that the person you are talking to is irredeemably tedious finally hits you, you end up feeling like a failure for not finding the person bearing that sort of insidious and unrelenting boringness engaging.

Sirius reached the end of his story (which he’d been dragging out longer than he ever had before) already exhausted from doing all the heavy lifting of the conversation: “So anyway, Mum finally found out that James was raising baby bats in the attic, and she threw a fit. Eventually Dad got her to calm down by promising that he and James would completely refinish the attic. But they were never _quite_ able to get rid of the smell.”

Matt laughed. “You’re so funny.”

Sirius accepted the compliment with a bland smile.

The conversation dropped between the two of them. Sirius let it sit, waited for Matt to pick it up of his own accord. Was that petty of him? Maybe. Probably.

“So…” Matt said, eventually, sweeping the conversation up in uncertain and untrained hands, “have you read any good books recently?”

“Actually I’m reading a book about the history of the vibrator. I just started it but the writing is surprisingly dull, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish it.” 

He’d already broached the topic of his profession (it’s hard to side-step the, ‘so what do you do?’ question) earlier in the evening. Matt had been surprised, but hid it quickly.

Their conversation (if the mutual, half-assed interrogation they’d been having over dinner could really be called a conversation) had been peppered with Matt trying to angle just how kinky his date was:

“So… do you have many regulars?” Matt had asked at one point.

“Quite a few.”

“What does a regular buy at a sex shop?” Matt’s brow had furrowed in a confusion that even Sirius — grouchy as he was — had to admit looked kinda cute.

“Lube,” he’d said, “protection. New gadgets. Also I carry a few different indie erotica series, which have their own following.”

Then, later, after a forced exchange about where they went to school — 

“So… do you usually… test new things before you buy them for the shop?”

Sirius smirked a little. “Depends on the things.”

“Oh.”

Sirius had also been trying his own investigation. He was trying to figure out whether Matt was very kinky and trying to figure out what Sirius was up for, or just super vanilla and scared. He was leaning towards super vanilla and scared, but that might just have been a petty unkindness on his part.

The conversation fizzled off, and Sirius decided to go with the whimsical angle.

“So… do you have any weird questions you ask people on first dates? Like, really strange ice breakers?”

Matt blinked, bemused smile coming to his very nearly handsome face. “Can’t say I do.”

_Of course not_. “Mine’s, do you have a favorite bridge?”

Matt laughed. “A favorite bridge? That’s so… specific.”

Sirius nodded. “That’s the idea. So, what’s your favorite bridge?”

Matt bit his lip — no, bit was too sexy a word, he nibbled his lip. “I can’t say I ever thought about it.”

“Alright… mine’s an old stone bridge, near where I grew up. There’s a lot of graffiti on the underside. My brother and I used to make up stories about the people who wrote their names there. You know? Like you do in grave yards?”

Matt shuddered. “Graveyards always creeped me out.”

_Of course they did_. They were just about done with dinner, so Sirius asked for the check. He was done talking. “Wanna get out of here?”

-/-

The walk to the hotel was quiet. Sirius considered asking a question or mentioning something random or telling a story or literally anything, but changed his mind. They were almost there anyway.

They turned a corner and nearly ran into someone. Sirius felt his stomach drop when he saw who.

“Remus,” Sirius said, arm tightening on Matt’s.

Matt stiffened at his side, blinking at the sudden tension.

Remus lurched forward, yanking back on a leash attached to some massive, gray beast.

“Sirius,” he said, voice weak. He cleared his throat. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he said, the formal, stilted, stupid reply that had been drilled into him his whole childhood. “You?” He moved his arm to Matt’s waist.

“I’m well too… Moony!” The creature, which Sirius could only assume was some sort of dog, was sniffing Matt’s crotch. “I’m sorry,” Remus said, looking mortified as he apologized to Matt, “he’s friendly.”

“Aww,” Matt cooed. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure.”

Matt scratched the beast behind its wooly ear. “What sort of dog is he?”

“Irish Wolfhound. Well, mostly at least. That’s what they said at the shelter.”

“Aw, so he’s a rescue?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, casting an affectionate look down at the dog. “I adopted him about three years ago. He’s an absolute nightmare, of course, but I couldn’t trade him for the world.” He trailed off when he glanced over at Sirius, who’d been staring, unbelieving, at him for the last few moments.

Matt seemed to catch on to the stifling and soul crushing discomfort in the air. It would have been impossible not to. “I’m Matt, by the way,” he extended a hand. Because Matt was lovely, he didn’t offer any more specific information about who he was in relation to Sirius.

Sirius was feeling decidedly unlovely. “We were just, er,” and he gestured down the street. They were just close enough to Linda’s hotel that his drift could be caught.

“Ah,” Remus said, and Sirius didn’t know him well enough to determine whether or not he was faking his amused look. “Well, I’ll just… c’mon, Moony.” He made his retreat with a casually tossed, “it was good to see you.”

“Old flame?” Matt asked as they continued down the street.

“Something like that.”

-/-

They checked into a room (earning an excited and entirely unprofessional look from Linda as they did so). They crawled onto the bed and started kissing.

And again, Sirius tried. He really tried.

But eventually he just had to say it: _I’m sorry, I can’t_. And he put his shirt on and Matt was understanding, but he gave him a kicked puppy sort of look that would probably be making Sirius wince for years.

And Sirius walked home alone, his mouth still tasting a bit like Matt, which made him feel dirty, though it shouldn’t have. Some old anxieties bubbled up and he beat them down by focusing on his new ones.

It wasn’t just pining, was it?

Was this thing with Remus — _he had no thing with Remus_ — this thing _about_ Remus just some pathetic obsession? Was he just fixating on the idea of something he’d never have? The Remus question, after all, had been answered, and that answer was _no_.

_I regret it._ He shuddered.

He arrived home and didn’t even bother to flick on the light. He went to his nightstand, pulled the safety seal off a free sample of lube one of his suppliers had given him, and took a very long shower.

-/-

“Ready?” Sirius asked, setting down his coffee mug as Chelsea approached the till.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, cheeks dimpling with her trademark wide smile. She tossed a small bottle of lube atop the pile she’d amassed with little thought, eyes scanning the small display of books Tonks had set up that morning.

“Big night tonight?” Sirius asked, gesturing towards the three new ballgags, the new strap on, the four bullet vibrators, the new paddle, the three coils of rope and two sets of cuffs, the harness, the four dildos and the value pack of condoms.

Chelsea shrugged, unfazed as a passing customer gawked at her haul. If she didn’t already own the largest collection of BDSM paraphernalia in Britain, it wasn’t for a lack of effort on her part. “I have a new _lover_ ,” she said, drawing the word out playfully.

Sirius stacked her purchases into one of the shop’s bigger bags and took her card, which was one of those dark and heavy credit cards rich people are given so they can quietly intimidate cashiers.

“Lucky them,” Sirius said, pulling the lengthy receipt out and up as it printed. He tore it from the printer with a flourish and handed it to Chelsea. 

“Thanks, love. And how have you been? I wasn’t able to make it to the last poetry night.”

“With another lover?” Sirius questioned.

“Lovers,” she corrected, leaning forward, her chest resting on her crossed forearms in a way that presented and enhanced the effect of her cleavage. Sirius had informed her years ago that though her chest was lovely, had he an interest in the fairer sex he would certainly have taken her up on the two or three (or six) offers she’d made in the first month of knowing him. The propositioning had stopped after that conversation, but not the preening. Sirius figured it was something she didn’t without really noticing. He’d caught himself in enough mirrors and received enough snide remarks from Tonks to know he often did the same.

“Lovers,” Sirius amended.

“You’re avoiding my question, Sirius. Been on any dates recently?”

_Ah_ , Sirius understood now. “You’ve been talking to Tonks.”

Chelsea didn’t seem terribly troubled by the fact that she’d been caught. “Dora may have mentioned something about a Matthew.”

“ _Dora_ ,” Sirius said, “needs to learn something about boundaries.”

“I take it the date didn’t go well?”

“It was perfectly mediocre,” Sirius said, eyes instinctually glancing up on the off chance that Matt had randomly decided to walk through the door at that very moment. 

“Sorry to hear that,” Chelsea said. “Well,” she glanced behind herself as a woman holding a few graphic graphic novels approached the till, “if you ever want to meet some new people, my circle is always expanding. You’d be very welcome. In fact, we’re having a meeting tonight.”

Sirius plastered on a smile. “Thank you, Chelsea, but I’m having dinner with my family tonight. Andromeda’s making lamb and she’d be quite put out if I ditched her for a group of fetishists.”

“Fair enough,” Chelsea said, readjusting the massive bag against her hip. “Offer still stands,” she said as she stepped out the door.

-/-

**Be warned** , Tonks texted him as he started over towards Andromeda’s, **Flynn’s here.**

_“Motherfucker_ ,” Sirius whispered. But he was already dressed and nearly to her house, too late for begging out and faking an illness.

He readjusted his grip on the bottle of wine he’d brought with himself, and knocked on the door.

Andromeda greeted him with her trademarked motherly smile. “Sirius, oh how lovely,” she examined the label on the bottle, though she would have called anything he’d bring lovely. There was still a gentleness to the way she handled Sirius and Regulus, all these years later, as if a stiff wind would send them flying. Sirius supposed at one point that was probably true.

He followed Andromeda inside and saw that Ted and Flynn were sitting in the main room. No Regulus in sight.

“Is there anything you need help with?” Sirius asked. _Please, please, please._

“Oh, no,” Andromeda said, too casual. “Just go sit with Flynn and Ted.”

Ah, so he was going to be used as a buffer.

For all of Ted Tonk’s admirable qualities, the man couldn’t feign affection to save his life. They all thought Flynn was a bit of a prick, but Ted was the only one unable to hide it.

Sirius sank into the third armchair, interrupting what had no doubt been a lengthy, uncomfortable silence.

Flynn was a pale-haired, ruddy-cheeked man maybe four years older than Regulus. Something about his physique said _I used to play rugby._ Something about the way he smiled said _I used to study finance._

He gave Sirius a quick smile, pocketing his phone, which he’d been staring at in lieu of talking to Ted. “Sirius, hi. How’ve you been?”

_Shitty_. “Great! You?”

“Can’t complain. How’s the shop?”

“Business as usual.” _Pining after your ex-boyfriend._

“Well that’s good. Hey, did you get that article I sent you? About small businesses?”

“I did, yeah.” 

“Because I really think if you just implement the small changes they’ve outlined, it’ll drive up sales 80%,” said Flynn. Who to Sirius’s knowledge had never owned a business.

“I’ll look into it.”

“I mean, it’s terribly rough out there for people in your profession. Especially since you’ve got the internet to compete with. You have a digital storefront, right?”

“Since 2013.”

“What’s your marketing campaign like?”

“Well—“

“So Sirius,” Ted said, leaning forward and officially arriving in the conversation with the subtlety of a ballista, “I hear you’ve been thinking about getting a cat.”

He hadn’t, but he nodded. “I have. Not sure it’s a good idea, given my apartment’s layout. I’m on the ground floor, as you know, and I’d rather not leave all my curtains open. But it seems a bit cruel to deprive a cat of places to stare out of.”

Ted nodded, digesting his response. “Have you thought about breeds?”

Flynn was already scrolling on his phone again.

Regulus and Tonks came in through the patio door, Tonks holding a large bag from one of the off-licenses around the corner. They were laughing about something, but their expressions sobered when they saw Sirius.

Which was never a good sign.

At one point during dinner, Andromeda brought out an old favorite topic of hers: Sirius’s love life.

“So, Sirius,” she said, taking a sip of her wine, “Dora mentioned you’d had a date recently?”

Sirius shot a quick, betrayed look at Tonks, who shrugged. “Yeah, though I don’t think it’ll go anywhere. He was nice, but we didn’t click, you know?”

Andromeda nodded. “So, my friend’s nephew just returned from a year or two in France, and…”

_Dear fucking Lord._

“Not sure he’s really in the market, Aunt Andromeda,” Regulus said, wicked glint in his eye. “From what I hear, he’s been pining after a young man by the name of Remus.”

Sirius stiffened. He shot a glare at Tonks.

“Don’t blame Dora,” Regulus said, leaning forward, looking so fucking pleased with himself. “I tortured it out of her. It’s funny, you used to date a Remus didn’t you?”

He was talking to Flynn, who looked how Sirius felt.

“I… I did, yeah.”

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if it was the same Remus?” Regulus asked. “Wait, was it the same Remus? That can’t be a common name. What’s his last name?”

He looked between the two of them.

“Lupin,” Flynn said, eyes narrowed at Sirius. “Remus Lupin.”

“Did you catch his last name, Sirius?”

“Regulus…” Andromeda began, straightening. “Maybe now’s not the time…”

“Why?” Regulus frowned. “Maybe Flynn can give you his number or something.”

“I don’t have his number anymore,” Flynn said. “We broke up a while ago. It was… look, I don’t have his number anymore.” There was a finality to his tone that shut Regulus up. He didn’t bring Remus up again.

As they were all getting ready to leave, Flynn pulled Sirius aside.

“I’m sorry if what Regulus said made you uncomfortable. I didn’t know you were dating Remus.”

“I’m not dating Remus,” Sirius said, jaw tightening.

They stared at each other like two chess masters trying to predict their opponents’ next play. 

“Right,” Flynn said. “You just…” He cocked his head in a strangely suggestive way.

“Yeah.” 

“Have you been in touch with him since? I mean, I doubt he talked about me.”

Was Sirius imagining the threatening tone creeping in at the end of his words? 

“I don’t see how that’s your business,” he said, in what James had always called his Ice Queen voice. The only inheritance from his mother worth having.

“Whoa!” Flynn held his hands up, stepping back as if Sirius had just landed a physical blow on him. “I’m just trying to make conversation here. Wondering how my old flame’s doing. Remus was a nice guy,” he gave a reasonable incline of his head. “Bit crazy, though. Got a little possessive. I was just hoping he didn’t say anything… y’know _nasty_ about me. He was pretty broken up when I cut it off, let me say.”

“Right. Well, like I said. I’m not dating him.”

“Right,” Flynn said, scratching his stubble. “Just a little worried he’d try to interfere with my relationship with Reg, you know? I’ve got a good thing going there and I don’t want there to be any… unnecessary heartbreak.”

“No one wants that,” Sirius said.

Flynn nodded. “So that’s it,” he started strolling back over towards Regulus, who was extracting himself Andromeda, who was fussing with his collar. “It was good to see you, Sirius, don’t forget to check out those links I sent you.”

“I won’t.” He would. “Oh, and Flynn?”

“Yeah?”

“My brother has been through a lot of shit in his life. He doesn’t need to go through anymore.” He narrowed his eyes. “Be sure you don’t cause him any _unnecessary heartbreak_ , alright?”

Flynn smiled. “Of course not. I’d never hurt him. You know that.”

-/-

The game shop smelled like old crisps and new plastic.

Sirius tried to make sense of the mess of tables and the mess of people inhabiting them. There were books and dice everywhere. People aged twelve to sixty-something, and not a face he recognized. The harried looking shop employee deposited him down at a table towards the back, with a few middle-aged men engaged in a fervent debate about … Star Trek? Maybe? … a nervous looking teenage girl and a man in his twenties with a very threadbare jumper.

“Are you new?” said the young man, who was sitting behind a cardboard screen designed to look like a castle.

“I am,” Sirius said with a smile, “yeah.”

Apparently this was not the right answer. “Alright,” the man said, looking down at something behind his screen. “Have you at least read the _Player’s Handbook_?”

“Uh… no? I’m sorry, I…”

The man held up a hand. “I’ll teach you as you go. I tend to use a lot of homebrew in my games anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. My last campaign just ended so I’m trying to find some good, serious players to start up a new one. I don’t usually come to these things. What made you decide to come to the game night tonight?”

Sirius never ended up answering that question, because they were interrupted.

“Hi, excuse me, hello,” a blonde woman about Sirius’s age butted into the group. “I’m Marlene,” she said with a wide smile, extending a hand out to Sirius, “and I’m the person you were talking to online earlier.”

Sirius had no clue what she was talking about, but there was a glint in her eye that suggested he’d best play along.

“Marlene,” he said, taking her hand, “of course.”

“We’re over there,” she jerked her head towards another table. “Sorry about the confusion, everyone,” she said to the young man, who looked rather annoyed. The teenage girl just looked even more forlorn. The middle aged men barely seemed to notice his arrival or his departure.

Sirius followed her dumbly to her table, which was populated by three other people about their age. She fell into a seat beside a woman with dark braided hair and thick glasses.

“There,” she said, wrapping her arm around the woman, “we’ve got our fifth.”

A man wearing a checked shirt and matching purple tie cocked an eyebrow. “Did you just poach a player from another table?”

Marlene smiled at Sirius, “I did him a favor,” she lowered her voice, leaning in. “I did you a favor, seriously. Tom’s the worst DM here. You’re new, right?”

“Is it that obvious?” Sirius asked.

“Marlene knows everyone,” the third woman at the table, a petite lady with a pixie cut and a t-shirt that said _Friends Don’t Let Friends Derive Drunk_. “She can sniff new blood from across a room.”

“And it’s _so_ hard to make friends in your thirties _,_ ” Marlene decried. “So, what’s your name?”

“Sirius Black.”

There was an amused silence across the table, then the woman at Marlene’s side broke out in a laugh. “You’ll fit right in, then.”

A round of introductions were made and Sirius came to understand that “the fifth” essentially meant the fifth wheel. He would be playing with two couples: Marlene McKinnon and her fiancé Dorcus Meadows, and Frank and Alice Longbottom.

They were still waiting for the DM.

“He’s great,” Marlene said, “he ran a campaign for Docus and me a few months ago, but our rogue moved to Bristol, then I had a falling out with our paladin and things sorta just fizzled. As they do.”

There was a sad little ripple across the table and a few stories were tossed back and forth about failed campaigns in the past. Sirius felt a touch disheartened, but Alice reassured him, “it’s still fun while it lasts, and once you get a good mix of people, campaigns can go on for a while. I had one going for nearly five years while I was in uni.”

There was a shuffling behind him and a familiar voice said, “sorry I’m late. One of my TAs was having a rough time with an exam and some student emailed me like ten times in a single afternoon and... Sirius.”

Remus Lupin was wearing a tweed jacked and had a leather satchel slung across his heaving chest. His hair was disheveled and his arms were full of books. He was exactly as Sirius always pictured him, except in Sirius’s head, he rarely had that dumbstruck look on his face.

Sirius just forced a smile, his body going cold. “Remus. Fancy meeting you here.”

“And everywhere, apparently,” Remus said with a nervous laugh. He ran his free hand through his hair.

“Didn’t realize you two knew each other…” Frank said, glancing between the two men.

_Oh_ , Sirius thought, _we knew each other, alright_.

“Small town,” Remus said, setting his things down. The only free seat was right beside Sirius, of course.

“Right,” Alice said, still frowning between them. “We were hoping Sirius could be our number five… that’s not a problem, right?” 

“No…” Remus said, slowly, giving Sirius a cautious sort of look. “Not if Sirius wants to join.”

“I’d love to,” Sirius said with a grin. “But I’m a total newbie, I might require some hand holding.”

“That’s fine,” Remus said, pulling out a binder. “It can take a little while to learn the system, but in time you’ll get more familiar with it. And never hesitate to ask questions. Tonight we’re just doing a one-shot, so I have some pre-made characters… but Marlene was thinking about running a longer campaign, and we can consider that too…if you’re all interested.”

Sirius was very much interested.

He felt like an utter idiot as they all helped him though the session… explaining which dice to roll, pointing to the places on the character sheet where the somehow relevant numbers were. The difference between an athletics check and an acrobatics check, which was apparently significant.

Still, he had way more fun than he’d anticipated. A lot of it had to do with Remus’s storytelling. He was entrancing, the way he set a scene, the gentle humor. The way he narrated combat made Sirius feel like an action star. The man had a gift.

Because that’s exactly what he needed — to become _more_ sexy.

In the end they decided that they would start their own campaign. And — after a twelve year old two tables over started crying — that they would hold it at Remus’s house.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and Sirius’s heart leaped up into his throat, as it always did when he said his name, “we’ll get together sometime this week to work on your character, if that works for you.”

Sirius nodded. “That works for me.” He made eye contact and didn’t break it, and the conversation fell silent for a moment.

“So…” Marlene said after a brief pause. “Did you two sleep together or something?”

Remus’s head snapped over to her. “What?”

“I mean, given all the longing looks and stuff. Something happened.”

Docrus elbowed Marlene in the side. “Marlene, you can’t just ask people if they’ve slept together. It’s rude.”

“What? As members of their adventuring party, I feel like I should know. We don’t want a repeat of what happened with Chris and Joe.”

Alice leaned forward, giving Marlene some side-eye that managed to look both condemning and affectionate. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. It is, after all, _none of our business_.”

“You lot are no fun,” Marlene said with an exaggerated eye roll. “But yeah, obviously you don’t have to tell us. I just wanted to know.”

Someone at a neighboring table rolled a natural 20, causing all the players to loudly rejoice. Remus used the distraction as an excuse to start packing his bag, and the party disbanded shortly afterward without the topic being reintroduced.

He and Remus ended up walking out together, which earned them a smirk from Marlene, which earned her a playful slap on the shoulder from Dorcas.

“I’m sorry if the conversation inside made you uncomfortable,” Remus said in a very proper, professor way. He taught history at Tonks’s university, he’d learned. _Professor Lupin_ , that one earned its own swoon.

“Remus, I own a sex shop. And for the record, I don’t mind if anyone knows we slept together. I’m not ashamed of it.” As soon as he said the words, he realized he’d implied that Remus _was_ ashamed they’d slept together.

Which probably wasn’t the case.

Hopefully that wasn’t the case.

Please, God, make that not the case.

“I’m not either,” Remus said quickly. “That we slept together, that is, I’m a little ashamed of my motives… but,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed. “It is good to see you again, Sirius.”

That made Sirius giddier than he had any reasonable right to. “It’s good to see you too.”

Remus smiled, but then he turned away. “So when are you free to work on your character?”

“Just about any evening. Or Monday anytime.”

“Would Tuesday at seven work?”

Remus suggested a local pub, and Sirius happily agreed to meet him there.

“Just bring something to write with and your imagination. I’ll bring the books and sheets and everything.”

“Sounds great.”

“Well,” Remus said as they made it to the parking lot and he unlocked his car, “I’ll see you then.”

And with that, he left.

As Sirius watched him drive away, he couldn’t help but wonder how much pain he’d just signed himself up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for any DNDers out there: I've never actually gone to a game night at a shop, all the games I've ever played have been arranged around friends. My depiction of the events at the shop are based off of stories I've heard and my own narrative needs. Any resemblance to Dungeons and Dragons players living or dead is strictly coincidental.


	4. Vicious Mockery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Referenced homophobia, family troubles. Also breastfeeding and baby pee. I know some people don't like baby stuff.
> 
> Please note that I know virtually nothing about babies, so please forgive inaccuracies.
> 
> I also know little about the British aristocracy. Sorry if I got something wrong.

“There’s  _ so many rules _ ,” Sirius groaned, his voice slightly muffled by the  _ Player’s Handbook. _

Lily, who’d been petting Harry’s head, moved her hand over to Sirius’s, patting him twice like a nervous dog. “You don’t have to memorize it all, Sirius. That would be ridiculous.”

“I know,” Sirius said, resting his chin on the stupid, shiny book, which was currently open to a page about feats. “But I want to.”

“I haven’t seen you this studious since we were all in school. No,” she corrected herself, “not even then. You were always too busy going to parties and getting laid.”

“I resent that,” Sirius said, sitting back and smiling. “I did very well on exams. I was at or near the top of my class in nearly every subject. Well,” he shrugged, “except math.”

“Mmmm,” Lily hummed, playing with a wayward wisp of black hair on Harry’s head. “But you were always that prick who did well without studying. I remember because I resented you over it. Maybe it’ll turn out that way this time, too. Maybe you can just show up and be good at everything, and all the other players will start to resent you as well.”

Harry detached himself. He looked over at Sirius, as if noticing him for the first time, and said, “Ee-us,” reaching his meaty little paws out towards his godfather.

“Hey, little dude,” Sirius said, accepting him from Lily. He started bouncing Harry on his knee, smiling as the baby started giggling with the movement.

Lily closed up her shirt and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I really wouldn’t worry about it, Sirius. Just use that natural Black charm and I’m sure your Remus won’t know what to do with himself. No one’s ever been able to resist you before.”

“No one’s ever dismissed me like he has before.”

“Are you sure it was dismissal? He sounded more apologetic than anything.”

“He said he regretted sleeping with me.”

“Mmmm,” Lily inclined her head. She looked out the window. It was one of those deceptively sunny days in early spring that made you hopeful. “I don’t know. I sense you aren’t getting the whole story. Like I said, you’re hard to resist. And I’m not just saying that because I had a crush on you until year seven. I don’t know. Call it my feminine intuition, but I think he fancies you right back. And now you get all this extra time to spend with him.”

“I know,” the thought had been sending jolts of anxiety through his body whenever he remembered it. He glanced at his phone. He had three hours until it was time to meet Remus at the pub. 

“If I were you, I’d pretend to not understand any of it and ask him for private tutoring sessions.”

“You hear that?” Sirius cooed, holding Harry up to his face, “your mum thinks the world works like the first five minutes of a porno.”

“Hey!” Lily said, feigning a stern look, “don’t say  _ porno _ in front of my kid. With our luck it’ll be his first word.”

“Nah, his first word will definitely be  _ Sirius _ .”

“Ee-us,” Harry tried again. “Ee-us.”

“ _ See-ree-us _ .”

“Ee-us!” Harry giggled. “Ee-us!”

“He’s making progress.”

“Uh, huh,” Lily took a long drink of her coffee. “Either way, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just keep being your pretty self and maybe one day you’ll get to ride that legendary Remus Lupin cock.”

Sirius pulled a face. “What are you going to do if his first word is  _ cock _ ?”

“Lie and tell James’s mother it was  _ daddy _ . Look,” she went over and shut the book, “just relax.”

“Telling someone to relax never—”

“Never makes them relax, I know. Sorry,” she tilted her head and gave him that tender motherly look that made him feel like he had something in his eye. “I just hate seeing you like this over a man. I just hope he proves to be worthy of you, at the end of all of this. I’d hate to see you date someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

“What makes you so certain we’ll end up dating?”

She shrugged, smiling. “Just be yourself, and I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

“Shall we print that on a card?” Harry started squirming, so Sirius let him down and crawl over to the small collection of toys he had in the corner.

“Oh,” she said, setting her coffee down and watching Harry as he shuffled across the floor, “and wear the grey shirt. The one you were wearing last week during game night? It makes your eyes pop.”

-/-

Sirius arrived first, which was new for him. Generally he was a bit late to dates, sometimes on purpose, sometimes accidentally-on-purpose.

He’d been so nervous about all of it that he didn’t even bother to check the clock to ensure he’d be just about six or seven minutes late. And he’d assumed Remus would be there first.

_ You know what they say about assumptions _ … he thought as he sat at a corner table with a pint of the first tap handle he’d recognized. It’d been years since he’d last come to this particular pub, which was just off the university’s campus. It had apparently gotten quite excited about craft breweries during that time. A quick scan of the room confirmed he was the oldest person there by something like ten years. 

Which was fine.

He’d concealed his  _ Player’s Handbook  _ under his jacket, an awkward, stupid maneuver that required him to press his elbow against his side and hip-check the book into place at one point. He slid it out and opened it quickly, pressing the cover against the table and forcing himself not to look around to see if anyone noticed. Which was ridiculous — he’d carried an open box of vibrators all the way across town not two weeks ago, but now he was embarrassed of a goddamned  _ book _ ?

He started drinking his beer maybe too quickly and tried to look utterly uninterested in the comings and goings of those around him. He wasn’t nervously anticipating Remus’s arrival, no, he was just a bloke studying up on…  _ half cover _ , whatever the fuck that is.

Remus came in the door at about 7:13 and Sirius waved him over with a casual, self-assured, attractive, relaxed, friendly, unconcerned, easy-going, comfortable, smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Remus said, setting down his satchel in the opposite chair from Sirius with an alarming  _ thump _ . He had a leather folder and a stack of library books cradled in his opposite arm like a baby. He set them gingerly in the seat as well. “One of the librarians emailed me today and said they finally had the books I’d requested, and I’m out of town for the next few days so I had to run to the library before she was gone and then… you don’t care.” Sirius did care but Remus was already on another topic. “Either way, I’m sorry I’m late,” he noticed the book Sirius had brought. “Got yourself a copy, huh?” He smiled, running his fingers through his hair and leaning in to see what page Sirius was on. He smelled nice. “Cover? Have you been studying the rules?”

“Uh,” Sirius cleared his throat, looking down, “yeah. A little. More skimming than anything else.”

Remus nodded approvingly and Sirius felt like a fucking dog someone had just scratched behind the ears. “More than most new players do. Let me go grab a drink and we’ll talk characters.”

Sirius watched him walk to the bar, then realized he was staring and went back to pretending like he was absorbing any of the text his eyes were running over. He was so focused on his…  _ studies _ that he actually managed to not notice Remus’s return.

“Alright,” Remus said, setting down a pint of something very dark. Some sort of stout. Sirius decided that there was something very sexy about having a preference for stouts, for some reason. Stout admiration showed a level of discernment and maturity and…  _ dear fucking Christ… _

Remus was, blessedly, unaware of Sirius’s thoughts. “So far it looks like Dorcas is planning on being a rogue, Marlene is thinking either paladin or fighter, Frank wants to be a sorcerer, and Alice is planning on being a cleric. Have you given any thought to what sort of class you want to be?”

Sirius opened to a page he’d marked a few hours before.

“I thought the wizard class looked cool,” he said, glancing up at Remus, who bit his lip Shit, he thought. Was that the wrong thing to say? Was there something wrong with that class? He’d fucked up. He should have chosen a better class. But he didn’t let his anxiety show, instead he just cocked an eyebrow (something he knew made him look good, since Remus was sitting in front of a mirror that advertised Guinness and he could therefore see his handsome face, perfectly coiffed hair, and the way his grey shirt made his raincloud eyes  _ pop _ .) “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, “it’s a good class, very versatile. It can just be a bit high maintenance. People don’t normally recommend it for beginners, but there’s no reason why you can’t do it. It might get a little rules heavy, though. Totally depends on how much shit you want to have to keep track of.”

Well, now it was starting to feel like a challenge. “I mean, if you’re gonna go, might as well go balls deep, right?”

Remus snorted. “Right. So a wizard, sounds good. What race?”

“Human, I think. It seemed the most versatile.” Besides, the website he’d checked suggested gnomes as one of the best races for wizards, and no way in fucking hell was he playing a gnome.

“Solid choice,” Remus said. “I gotta commend you, most people start by playing an elf or something.”

He’d considered it. He snorted. “Yeah? I believe it.”

“So, a wizard. The party’s old, wizened mentor? Gonna go the long beard and sparkly robes route?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Do wizards  _ have _ to be old?”

“No,” Remus said, smiling. “Wizards do not have to be old.”

“Good. My character is going to be the sexiest wizard in all the realms.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus said, resting his chin in one of his hands, long fingers spinning his pen in the other. “We haven’t even determined your Charisma score yet.”

“We do that by rolling a fuck ton of dice, right?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” Remus said, picking up a small bag that had been sitting on the table since Sirius had arrived. He emptied it out, cupping his hand to one side to contain the cascade of bright plastic. Dozens of dice of all shapes and sizes clanged against the pub’s dingy table, one of them rolling so far out that it hit Sirius’s glass.

He picked up his beer in one hand and the little yellow thing in the other, taking a long drink and examining the sides. It had twelve of them.

Remus had picked out four normal looking dice from the mess, holding them in the flat of his palm for Sirius to see. “So take out a sheet of scrap paper and a pencil, and get ready for some  _ maths _ .”

Sirius wrinkled his nose, but he did what Remus said. “You can tell this is a nerd game. Look at all these numbers.”

“And yet, here you are.” Remus gave Sirius the dice, his hand brushing against his.  _ Jesus Christ _ . He’d literally been inside the man, but that small impersonal touch still made him want to draw hearts in a diary somewhere. 

Remus didn’t seem to notice. “So you want to roll four d6s, then you ignore the lowest number. You add the other three together, and that’s the score. Do that seven times, and discard the lowest of the seven. Then we’ll figure out which number to put in which ability score. As a wizard, you’ll want to put your highest number in Intelligence. It’s also a good idea to put a high number in Constitution, which’ll determine how many hit points you have.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, pushing aside some of the other dice to make space, and rolling. “So that would be… fourteen?”

“Yup,” Remus said, nodding. “Now do that six more times.”

Sirius did, smiling as Remus either congratulated him on a good score, or hissed in sympathy when he got a seven. ( _ “Bad luck.” _ ) Sirius found it was weirdly satisfying to toss the small pieces of plastic around. There was something addictive and gambler-esque about the ritual of it.

He finished and looked up at Remus.

“Alright,” he said, “so toss out the 7 and you’ve got 14, 14, 12, 9, 17, and 10. Since you’re a human, those all go up by one to start with.”

“So I should put the 18 in Intelligence and a 15 in Constitution?”

“That’ll make your character the most ‘effective,’” Remus said with a nod. “As you play, you’ll figure out how much you really value optimization. Some people get the most enjoyment out of the game when they create a character who is perfectly formulated to do something — run really far or deal ungodly amounts of damage, for example. They pour over the books and find all the most obscure rules and put it together. It can be really fun to watch, though sometimes it gets in the way of their ability to enjoy other aspects of the game. Some other people only really care about creating the most interesting or original or funny character they can come up with, stats be damned. A lot of it boils down to personal preference.”

“My priority is creating the sexiest wizard that ever lived,” Sirius said with a grin.

Remus laughed. “Just keep in mind, in my games I make it really  _ really _ hard to seduce a dragon.”

Sirius frowned. “Why would I want to seduce a dragon?”

Remus’s answering laugh was so loud a nearby customer glared at them. “You really  _ are _ new.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So how long before I can buy a mount? I have some thoughts about hippogriffs.”

-/-

“Have a great day!” Tonks said as the last customer left. She charged towards the door, the key extended out before her like a lance, locking the thing and turning off the sign just as the clock struck seven. “I thought she would never leave,” Tonks sighed.

Sirius, who’d already started counting out the cash in the till, shrugged, though he was just as relieved as she was. “The woman could chat for England.”

“Fifteen cats?”

“With photo evidence.”

There was a knock on the door, and Tonks swung around. “We’re closed! We’ll be open at ten tomorrow morning!”

It was raining out, and the figure was under an umbrella large enough to obscure his face, but when he moved it, Sirius’s stomach sank.

Tonks unlocked the door. “Regulus? What’s going on?”

Regulus set the umbrella against the wall and shook himself out like a dog. Tonks winced away from the droplets. “Oi!”

“Is everything okay?” Sirius asked, leaning across the counter to get a better look at his brother, whose eyes were all red and puffy.

“Flynn and I got in another fight.”

Sirius and Tonks didn’t say anything.

“Please just don’t say  _ I told you so _ .”

“I wasn’t going to,” Sirius said. Though he was thinking it.

“Did you break up?” Tonks said, tone just two degrees away from hopeful.

“No, Dora, we didn’t break up. He’s already texting me again and asking when I’m coming home.” Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulder slumping. “Why does this keep  _ happening _ ?” His voice broke a little on the last word, and Sirius rushed forward to embrace him.

His younger broker collapsed against him, his thin body shaking with half-sobs. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not with him. I… I know Mum wasn’t right.”

“Mum wasn’t right,” Sirius whispered fiercely into his brother’s damp hair. “She was never right.”

Tonks wrapped her arms around the two of them. “What if I went and got some curries? And beer?”

“Take my card,” Sirius said, reaching for his wallet. “We’ll call it a business expense.”

Tonks darted out the door, and Sirius ushered his brother into the break room in the back. He broke into the Poetry Night tea stores as Regulus started outlining the particulars of the fight.

“He said I was starting to get clingy and controlling. I’d asked him where he went last night — because we had a date, one of my friends had a gallery opening and I wanted him to come with me. He backed out at the last minute and I got upset. He told me I needed to let him  _ breathe _ . That’s the word he used,  _ breathe _ .” Regulus looked very small, curled up on the folding chair by the cheap table, glaring at the steam rising from the kettle. “What does that even  _ mean _ ?”

“It  _ means _ he’s a git,” Sirius said, readying three mugs. “So he didn’t give an explanation for why he didn’t go?”

“He said he thought my friends didn’t like him — my art friends, you know?”

“Is that true?”

“No… I don’t think. I don’t know. He said he doesn’t like it when I hang out with them. That they make me act bitchy.”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “Give me three minutes with the prick and he’ll know what the fuck  _ bitchy _ looks like. You let that asshole talk to you like that?”

Regulus played with a loose string on his sleeve. “I mean, I think he has a point. I get really catty with them. I might have said a few unpleasant things to him last time. Thanks,” he accepted the mug from Sirius. “I know you all think that he’s the only one who ever does anything wrong, but I can be nasty right back. I’ve said some properly shit things to him. Things Mum or Dad would have said.”

Sirius gnawed on his bottom lip. “We both have. That doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“If his isn’t excused, then mine isn’t either.”

“Yeah,” Sirius stirred his tea. “Well…”

“I’m just so tired,” Regulus said, voice quiet. He looked deflated and defeated in a way that made Sirius want to go on some school-yard rampage. No one had any right to make his baby brother look like that.

“You can stay with me tonight,” Sirius said.

Regulus gave him a weak smile. “I appreciate that, but I think I’m going to go back to our flat later. He’s working a late shift at the hospital tonight and I want to see him when he gets out.”

Sirius bit back an annoyed response.

Regulus seemed to sense it anyway. “I know, I know. But he isn’t always like this. It isn’t always like this. Sometimes it’s really, really good… it feels normal.”

“Running across town to cry in your brothers arms more than once a month isn’t  _ normal _ , Reg,” Sirius said.

“Oh, and pining after someone you met once is?”

Sirius winced.

Regulus’s face fell. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

Sirius was still looking at his tea. “I  _ have _ seen him more than once.”

Regulus frowned. “But at dinner you…”

“I didn’t say anything at dinner because Flynn was there.” Sirius could feel his heartbeat in his temples, Remus’s revelation on the tip of his tongue and ready to deploy.

Regulus rolled his eyes, an easy smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, c’mon. Flynn couldn’t be  _ that _ jealous. If you’re dating Remus, he’ll deal with it. Is that why you didn’t want to tell him?”

“No,” he took a breath. “Look, Reg, Remus told me that Flynn cheated on him.”

Regulus blinked. “And you believed him?”

That was not the response he’d anticipated. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus sat up, “because Flynn is my  _ boyfriend _ and you don’t know Remus from a hole in the ground?”

“Jesus, Reg, calm down,” Sirius said, setting his mug on the counter. “He spoke with me a little while ago and he explained what happened. Apparently Flynn cheated on him a lot, I figured you had a right to know.”

“Did he provide proof?”

“Proof?” Sirius crossed his arms, incredulous. “What proof would you want? Did you think he’d walk around with a bunch of pictures of Flynn fucking strangers in his wallet? Did you think he had a folder full of hotel receipts and phone transcripts? He was just telling me about his experience.”

“Right,” Regulus rolled his eyes. “His experience. Flynn told me about him after dinner the other night. Remus was  _ demented _ after they broke up. He did all this weird stuff to try to get back at Flynn after Flynn had had enough. He had to change the locks on his door and block him on everything. He even took his dog!”

“Flynn said all that?”

“So how much have you been seeing Remus recently? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve seen him a few times in the last few weeks,” Sirius said, forced casual, deciding now wasn’t the time to bring up the campaign. “I think he’s trustworthy.”

“Well I’m glad the random hookup you’ve seen a few times in the last few weeks is more worthy of trust than the man I’ve been living with for nearly a year. For fuck’s sake, Sirius.” He tossed the rest of his tea in the sink and slammed the mug down on the counter so hard a nearby fork jumped up and rattled. “I know you don’t trust my discernment, but do you have to be such a prick about it?”

Sirius took a step back. “I thought I was doing you a favor! Don’t you think you should know what his ex says about him? Get another perspective?”

“He’s my boyfriend, Sirius, not a restaurant I’m looking up on Yelp!”

“That’s not what I meant!” They were both properly yelling now. “None of us like him, yeah? Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Right, because familial approval is  _ so fucking important to us _ . Why don’t you trust me to know what’s good for me?”

“Why don’t you trust  _ me _ to recognize when someone’s bad news?”

“Why should I trust you, Sirius?” Regulus asked, a nasty kind of glint in his eye, “you’ve never been in a real relationship. Never. Why would I trust you to know what makes for a good partner? You’ve never had to put in the work — you’ve never bothered to put in the work. You just sleep with everything that moves because it makes you feel pretty, but you never bother to learn enough about another person to build anything real with them. You know why that is, Sirius? Because the rest of us do. We all know that you’re just scared that if anyone ever gets to know the real you they’ll find out how fucked up you are and they’ll run screaming.”

“ _ Fuck you Regulus _ ,” Sirius hissed.

“I’m going home,” Regulus said, shrugging on his coat. “I’m going home and I’m going to talk to my boyfriend when he gets out of work.” He strode out of the room.

“Ask him if he cheated on Remus,” Sirius shouted through the shop, body shaking.

He got no response, just the clanging of the bell and a shaking sort of noise as the front door was slammed.

Sometime later, Tonks came into the break room. She shook water from her hair and explained something about long lines and order mess ups and traffic in rain, but she stopped short when she saw the tears in Sirius’s eyes.

“Where’s Regulus?”

“He left.”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I told him about Remus,” Sirius said, sinking into the chair. He went to wipe his eyes, and found his hands were shaking. 

“And it didn’t go well.”

“No,” Sirius said, finishing his tea, which was starting to go cold, “it didn’t go well.”

-/-

“Hey!” Remus said, ushering Sirius inside, “did you have any trouble finding parking?”

“Actually I lucked out, there was a spot — oh, hi puppy.” 

Moony the Alleged Dog trotted over from a bed so fur-encrusted it looked like a storm cloud. His pointed nose found its way directly to Sirius’s crotch and gave it a few loud sniffs. Sirius scratched him behind the ear, which resulted in the mongrel relaxing the entirety of his weight into Sirius’s leg.

“He likes you,” Remus said with an unreadable smile.

“I’m very likable,” Sirius said, scratching a spot that made Moony’s tail wag, which disturbed a nearby cache of papers.

Remus’s flat looked quite a lot like Sirius thought it would. There was a cozy sort of chaos to the place: a very lived-in armchair by an overstuffed bookshelf, a cheap desk that looked barely capable of supporting the stacks of paper atop it. The walls were cluttered with postcards and vintage posters. A confusing array of knick knacks on the mantle: cheap souvenirs from America and the Continent, an old clock, a wooden sketching figure, something made with wrought iron he couldn’t identity, and —

“Is that a bust of Apollo?”

Remus gave him a sheepish smile. “Maybe. I mean, it’s a reproduction.”

“Have you ever used it  _ for scale _ ?” Sirius asked, walking over to the thing and mentally measuring it against his memories of Remus’s member.

“You still remember that bit, huh?” Remus scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m not hearing an answer,” Sirius said.

“No, Sirius,” Remus said, “I have not used my bust of Apollo in a dick pic. I just happen to own one because I’m a pretentious nerd. Haven’t you learned by now that dark academia is just code for pretentious nerdery?”

“Are you often in the habit of sending dick pics?” Sirius asked, almost hopeful.

“No, Sirius,” Remus let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling. “I’m just in the habit of making sarcastic remarks.”

The doorbell rang, causing Remus to jump a bit.

“Guess the rest of the adventurers are arriving,” he said, “we’ll be playing in the dining room, if you want to get your things set up.”

Was Sirius imagining the slightly disappointed look on his face when their conversation was interrupted?

-/-

“You walk into the next chamber and find it completely empty. It’s considerably smaller than the other room, and on the other side is a door.”

“Is the door locked?” Frank asked.

“Do you walk over and check it?” Remus asked, with a crooked eyebrow Sirius had already learned often meant certain doom for their characters. 

“With your hand?” Marlene asked, leaning in with a wicked smile.

“Can I check for traps?” Dorcas asked, already picking up her d20.

“Sure,” Remus said.

“17?”

“It looks safe to you.”

“In that case,” Frank said, “I walk over to the door and check it…  _ with my non-dominant hand. _ ”

“Which hand is that?” Remus asked, amused.

“You know, I figure Ulrich the Sorcerer is left-handed. He gives off that vibe.”

“You reach for the knob—”

Marlene and Sirius snorted.

“You reach for the  _ doorknob _ ,” Remus continued, side-eyeing them, “with your right hand… and…” he glanced down and Sirius could hear the sound of plastic connecting with table, “the door is indeed locked.”

“Is the lock visible?” Docras asked, “can I try to pick it?”

“Sure. You’re able to pick the lock, and the door swings open. On the other side…”

Sirius’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at it as subtlety as he could.

_ Shit _ .

**Hey I’m really sorry but could you PLEASE go to the store and get me some nappies? Lily is away at her yoga thing and I can’t call her and we just ran out and Harry had an accident and I can’t really take him out I’m so sorry but it’s an emergency I will love you forever**

“On the other side is another room, this one with a chest at the center. The pattern on the floor is different from that of previous rooms. There are several equidistant red tiles worked into the floor. On the back wall is a mural depicting some sort of battle. Marlene, your character recognizes it as an important historical battle that took place about a hundred years ago. According to the monks…”

He had to go, didn’t he? He’d be a shit friend if he didn’t. But he knew James would forgive him for failing to show up. These new people… how would Remus react if he cut into it?

“I’m really sorry, but I need to leave for a minute,” Sirius said, wincing even as he said it. “My friend’s baby has run out of nappies and I may be his only hope.”

Everyone blinked over at Sirius — Sirius of the sloppy manbun and worn leather jacket. He knew how it looked.

“Oh,” Remus frowned, “uh, okay. Do you want us to cut it short for the night, then?”

“I can be back in half an hour,” Sirius said, already standing. “Forty minutes, tops. I’m really, really sorry.”

“Shit happens,” Remus said with a shrug, then he pulled a face. “Pardon the pun, please. How about we take a break, then? You can go run out and we’ll start back up when you return.”

“I had to pee anyway,” Alice said, standing and giving Sirius an encouraging little smile.

“Good luck on your quest, brave wizard,” Dorcas said, standing and stretching out her legs.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, thank you,” he made a lot of bows as he left, practically sprinting to his car.

He sped to the store and frantically found the baby stuff isle. Then he realized…

He pulled out his phone.

“Sirius!” came James’s harried voice through the line. “Are you going to be able to…”

“I’m at the shop,” Sirius interrupted, bouncing on his heels and looking down and the confusing array of nappy sizes and brands, “what type do you need? I’ve never had to buy these before.”

“Oh! Shit, thank you. You’re the best friend ever…”

“James, I’ve got a dungeon to plunder, what brand?”

James told him. Sirius snatched them from the shelf and hung up on him without another word, taking his place at the back of the queue. Which, of course, only led to one till. And there were three people ahead of him. And the woman in the front was having some sort of argument about coupons.

Sirius clenched his jaw. Of course, of course the first night of the game something like this would happen. Was he cursed? He was fairly sure he was cursed…

Someone stepped into the queue behind him, and he glanced back out of instinct less than interest. Because really he didn’t care but…

Of course.  _ Of course _ .

“Flynn,” he said, less of a greeting and more of an accusation. “How are you?”

Flynn gave him a tight smile, his hands clenching tighter around the only thing he seemed to be buying which were — 

_ Of course, of course. _ A box of condoms.

“Good,” Flynn said. “Nothing new.” He didn’t offer any new line for the conversation, didn’t mention that the last time Sirius and Regulus had seen each other, it had devolved into a screaming match.

That had been three days ago. Sirius knew they’d be okay eventually. They’d had worse fights and they always came around in the end, but, well, Regulus still hadn’t responded to his texts.

Which he supposed were rather passive aggressive given their recent conversation and the fact that Sirius was absolutely not in the wrong and Regulus really needed to apologize for what he said.

Which absolutely wasn’t true. Sirius was perfectly capable of maintaining a relationship he’d just never met a man he’d wanted to maintain one with and now that he  _ did _ know a man he’d maybe probably absolutely be interested in dating it was getting all weird and complicated and shit and Regulus was telling him to stay away from him…

Which was none of Regulus’s business and  _ really _ anyone could see that Flynn was a prick but apparently he and Regulus were still having a lovely time being all committed and whatever and…

Magnums?  _ Fucking Lord… _

They didn’t say anything else to each other as they waited in line for seven minutes (Sirius was checking his phone enough to know precisely how long they waited) and Sirius was making long strides out the door and two his car before he could even think to be embarrassed that he was carrying nappies.

He arrived at James and Lily’s after some very questionable maneuvers and liberal interpretations of the precise intention of a STOP sign.

James was holding a naked, wailing baby in one arm, a toilet plunger in the other, and had his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear.

“You are a saint.”

“Yeah, yeah, take your stuff.”

“The toilet exploded.”

“What?”

“I’m on the phone with a plumber,” he held Harry out, “could you  _ please _ change him? I need to keep the water line down and I’m on hold.”

“I’ve never changed a baby before,” Sirius said, holding Harry away from himself. Harry’s cries were the loudest he’d ever heard them.

“It’s not that complicated. Just take off anything you don’t want him peeing on.”

“What?”

“Please?” James looked like he wanted to die. Sirius couldn’t blame him, really.

“Fine, fine,” he took Harry and the package to Harry’s nursery, and set him down on the changing table, as he’d seen. 

He now had no idea what to do.

He pulled out one of the wipes, and was about to start cleaning Harry off, then he remembered James’s warning about pee. He peeled off his leather jacket and tossed it on a chair next to a giraffe and elephant print blanket. Then he glanced down and realized he was wearing his second-favorite shirt, so he took that off as well.

“Alright, little man,” Sirius said, wiping down Harry’s nether regions while eyeing the strange array of powders and lotions along the edge of the changing table. “This some sort of fucking spa?” he muttered.

Powder? You were supposed to use that, right? He sprinkled some on Harry’s bum, and the kid started squirming, his crying starting all over again.

“Aaahhh,” Sirius looked around. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He ripped the package open, tugging out one of the nappies. They were so tightly packed that five or six flew out as he did so, and fell all over the rug. One of them tumbled under the table, but he decided that wasn’t his problem.

He looked at the thing, flipping it over a few times, decided which side was the front, and went to lift Harry’s legs up.

And, of course, his godson peed on him.

“I’m mentioning this at your wedding, I hope you know that,” Sirius said as he waited for the flood to stop and secured the nappy around Harry’s hips.

Harry giggled, bringing his foot up to his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s hilarious,” Sirius muttered. “We should probably get you dressed.” He went over to the little wardrobe and pulled out the first onesie he saw, a little red and gold number designed to look like a school uniform, and wrangled a wiggling Harry into the dumb thing. He then wiped himself off with another one of the wipes, tossed his jacket back on, and carried Harry out into the main room.

James was still on the phone, trying to build a wall of towels in the entrance to the bathroom as water streamed from the toilet.

“I have your kid,” Sirius said, bouncing Harry off his side.

“Great,” James said, “can you keep an eye on him for a minute?”

“James, I have to go,” Sirius said.

“Lily should be back in a few minutes,” James said, “ _ please _ , Sirius. I’m having a hard time here.”

Sirius sighed. He looked down at Harry, who seemed to be having a lovely time watching his father create a barricade.

He stood there for a few more minutes, grabbing more towels when James asked, muttering under his breath.

The door opened behind him, and Lily tossed her keys in the bowl. “What the—”

“Lily!” Sirius handed her Harry so quickly that she had to throw her yoga mat down to take him. “I need to go! Good luck with everything!”

And he left.

Did that make him a shitty friend, he wondered? Maybe.

He started heading back towards Remus’s place, eyeing the clock. He was starting to get late, but if he stopped to text him, he’d be later. He was close enough, he could get there in ten minutes if he—

There was a loud bang and the car started to lurch to the right. Sirius had to strong arm it towards the side of the road as it slowly came to a stop.

“Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me,” he whispered, forehead resting on his steering wheel. He turned on his hazard lights. 

Sirius hadn’t changed a tire in nearly ten years, so it took him a while. And he realized halfway through the annoying, messy, task that he had forgotten to put his shirt back on underneath the jacket. He was wandering around in just a leather jacket, like an absolute git.

He reached for his phone, which was still open to the “How to Change a Tire” article he’d looked up, to send Remus a message explaining his tardiness.

But he wasn’t paying good enough attention, and instead of picking up his phone, he accidentally batted it a little ways away.

Not normally, an issue, of course, unless his phone was very near the grate leading down to a storm drain.

Which it was.

There was a splashing sound, and then Sirius said a word he rarely said in public.

But eventually, he prevailed. The replacement tire was in place. He could just drive back to Remus’s. He was fairly certain he remembered the way.

Pretty fairly certain.

He started his car back up and rejoined traffic.

Slow traffic. 

Very slow traffic.

There were flashing lights ahead. Some sort of accident?

Sirius sat, fingers drumming on the wheel, as five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and the traffic did not move.

They were all going to hate him. They were going to think he’d ditched him. They were going to resent him for ruining his evening. They were going to kick him out of the party. Remus was going to think he was a prick.

James and Lily were going to be angry at him for abandoning them. He really fucked up Harry’s nappy change and he was going to get sick. He was going to have trauma. He was going to turn into one of those kids that picked legs off of insects and set fire to drapes.

Regulus was never going to want to talk to him again. He was going to have no friends.

The cars ahead of him finally started moving again and he snapped out of it. Now he had something far more pressing to worry about: was the turn onto Remus’s road before or after the park? And, shit, was that the yogurt shop he remembered seeing, or was it that other chain? All he remembered was that there was a yogurt shop…

Eventually he made his way back to Remus’s neighborhood, but the parking spot that was right in front of his house was gone.

Which was a pity, really, because it had started raining.

Sirius had to drive around the block, then the next block, then the next block, three times to find a spot, and by then it was positively pouring and he was two and a half hours into his thirty minute errand.

He ducked his head and made for Remus’s house, barreling through the downpour.

He knocked on his door, bracing for a baratement or at least a politely worded dismissal from the group. Instead, he was greeted by Remus, who was wearing a surprisingly tight t-shirt and a pair of worn flannel pajama bottoms. He, much to Sirius’s secret delight, looked relieved.

“Sirius,” he said his name like a sigh, “we were worried about you. Come in, you must be freezing.”

Sirius stepped into the warm entryway, thankful and shivering a bit. He caught himself in a mirror and saw what an utter sight he was: shirtless beneath the leather jacket, hair soaked and clinging to his cheeks, tight jeans all the tighter for the rain. At least the rain had washed the baby piss off of him.

Remus didn’t seem to know where to look. He dragged his gaze up to Sirius’s face. “What happened?”

“Uh, well…” and then he launched into a breathless, confused explanation of his evening.

At the end, Remus cocked his head, frowning. “Why didn’t you text me or something? We were all worried about you. Everyone left an hour ago. I called a few times,” Remus bit his lip, eyes cast down, like he was admitting something embarrassing.

“Oh, shit,” Sirius said, still standing by the door and dripping onto the floor. Moony had come by to give him a sniff, but left when he realized how wet and cold he was. “I forgot that bit. I dropped my phone in a storm drain.”

“You dropped your phone in a storm drain.” Remus repeated, clearly not believing him.

“You know how the holes the grates in storm drains are perfectly mobile phone sized?”

“I do, yeah. Always been afraid I’d drop my keys down one or something, though I’ve never heard of that actually happening to people. Did you break a mirror this morning? Spill some salt?”

“I think I upset an eldritch deity or something,” Sirius said, shrugging and relieved, though the movement brought to light how sopping wet he was. “Would… would it be possible for me to use your shower? Maybe borrow some clothes? An umbrella? My car’s really far away and it’s a bit of a drive back to my flat.”

“Jesus,” Remus said, as if just noticing Sirius’s state, “my mother would never forgive me, I’m a horrible host. I can take your jacket and set it out to dry. I’ll get you some clothes while you’re in the shower.”

Sirius gave him a grateful smile and peeled the heavy jacket off. 

Remus cast a quick glance down at his bare torso, but his eyes batted away. “Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on your left,” Remus said as he draped the jacked on a chair by a radiator. “I’ll do what I can to find you something to wear.”

Sirius set his shoes by the door and padded down to the bathroom, peeling his jeans off the moment the door was closed. He went over to the shower and looked at the set up.

How the bloody hell was he supposed to turn the thing on?

There were four separate knobs. Four.  _ For what possible purpose…? _ The shower looked like it was designed in the 1970s.

He tried the one nearest him, but no water came out. Then the one furthest away, and there was a weird clanking sound and for a moment he thought he was about to break Remus’s house.

Fuck it.

“Remus,” he called, poking his head out the door. “Could you help me with the shower?”

“It’s a bit tricky,” Remus called from what Sirius supposed was his bedroom. He stepped out and stopped suddenly. “Are you… decent?”

Sirius wasn’t, in fact, but the thought of putting on his sodden pants was nearly enough to detach his balls from his body, and besides, he didn’t know where the towels were. “Remus, at risk of sounding indelicate, it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

A flush came to Remus’s cheeks, and it would have been adorable if it wasn’t for the fact that Sirius would much, much rather prefer their dynamic was such that seeing one another naked was very much an everyday thing.

“Fair enough,” he said after a moment, coming into the bathroom and very determinately not looking at Sirius’s cock. He turned the knobs with an ease and precision Sirius normally associated with pilots preparing for takeoff and Sirius didn’t know how he’d made it to this ridiculous point but even  _ that _ simple act of competence was attractive to him.

“Turn this one to the left for more warm water, this one to the right for more cold water, and when you’re done, turn this one all the way to the left to turn the water off.” He opened a closet door and handed Sirius a folded towel. “Feel free to use whatever soaps or shampoos you see. I’ll try to find something for you to wear, though I think we might have different trouser sizes.” He glanced down at the lower half of Sirius’s body, then his eyes snapped up. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.” And he retreated before Sirius could make any sort of remark about why exactly he might  _ need _ him in the shower.

Sirius slipped into the spray, fidgeting with the different controls, their instructions half-remembered. There was something deeply underwhelming about Remus’s shower. He used a generic sort of bar soap with a subtle, unsexy scent. His shaving cream was the cheapest available, and he had dandruff shampoo.

Yet there was an undeniable warm intimacy to using the man’s shower, something quiet and almost wholesome. Sirius found himself lingering under the stream, hugging himself and letting the heat from the water seep down to his bones.

Sirius was eventually able to pull himself from the shower, and started toweling himself off.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “I think I found some stuff for you to wear,” Remus said, his voice muffled. “It’s not the fanciest, but…”

Sirius wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door. Remus was clutching a small bundle of folded flannel. “I think these might be the only things I have that fit you,” he said, holding it out and making determined eye contact.

“Thanks,” Sirius said, wincing internally. He wasn’t looking forward to walking back to his car in the flimsy things.

As if to remind him of his shit day, a strong gust of wind outside shook the window behind Remus, who gave it a nervous glance.

“If you’d like,” Remus began, somewhat unsteady, “you can spend the night here. It’s nasty outside and I have it on good authority that I have a very comfy sofa.”

Sirius blinked, the words only starting to register.

Remus blanched. “I mean, I don’t mean to be presumptuous and of course I understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea given… how we met… but…”

“Remus, I’d love to,” Sirius said, cutting him off. “Thank you.”

Remus smiled, eyes flickering down, then immediately up. “Well I’ll leave you to get changed. Fancy some tea? Or maybe something stronger? You look like a man who could use a drink.”

Sirius rubbed his eyes. “You have no idea.”

Remus’s laughter carried down the short hall as he walked away.

Sirius changed quickly, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The t-shirt Remus had lent him was from some school in Wales, from the looks of it. Weird, he thought as he went to join Remus. The man’s accent never hinted at any sort of Welshness.

Remus was holding a bottle of whiskey with a label Sirius didn’t recognize.

When he caught Sirius squinting at it, Remus held the bottle out to him. “American bourbon. One of my students came back from a few months abroad and gave it to me.”

“Vying for a better grade?” Sirius asked.

“Maybe,” Remus said. “Though, honestly, he’s one of the better students I’ve had in a while. He’s working on a fascinating examination of trade between Rome and India during the reign of…” Remus trailed off. “Sorry, nerding out.”

Sirius smiled. “I like it when you nerd out.”

Remus blushed, cleared his throat. “Anyway, thought I’d crack it open. Don’t have too much else to drink at the moment.”

“Sounds lovely,” Sirius said. As he went to hand the bottle back to Remus, his stomach grumbled.

Remus smirked. “Hungry?”

He’d had an early dinner but he hadn’t been able to eat much because he’d been nervous about the session… not that he was about to admit that to Remus. “I, uh…”

“C’mon,” Remus said, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I could eat, too. I think I can pull something together.”

Remus found some leftover meat pie in his fridge. He put the whole thing in the oven. The smell of it summoned Moony to the kitchen.

“Young man,” Remus said, stern, to the pouting dog, “you’ve already had your dinner. No begging.”

Moony trudged back to his bed, making perhaps a slightly too enthusiastic show of his disappointment.

“You’re so cruel to him,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his bourbon. The heat of it going down was very welcome. The storm was only getting stronger outside.

“If I gave him every scrap of food he wanted, he’d be so fat he couldn’t walk,” Remus said, getting some plates from the cupboard.

“But he’d probably be able to roll. Can dogs get diabetes?”

“Yes,” Remus said, “if you can believe it. I actually have to put him on a diet to prevent him from getting overweight. My ex used to overfeed him.”

“Flynn?” Sirius asked, though saying the man’s name felt like stepping on a frozen pond in late April.

“Yeah,” Remus said. “We got the dog together, but I ended up with custody.”

What had Regulus said? Flynn had lost his dog? “How’d you decide that? Did you do that thing divorcing couples do where they both call for the dog at the same time and see who he chooses?”

“Heh,” Remus breathed, crossing his arms and leaning against his counter, “if only. No, it was sort of a mess. At first he wanted to keep him, but then he told me that someone was moving in with him and that he had to get rid of him, so I got him. That was almost a year ago, I think.”

“My brother,” Sirius said to himself. “Shit, that makes sense.”

“Your brother?” Remus asked. “What do you mean?”

“My brother’s allergic to dogs. He moved in with Flynn around that time. Must’ve been why he gave him to you.”

“Oh,” Remus said, eyes falling to the floor. “I see.”

Sirius frowned. “He told Regulus that he’d lost the dog in the break up.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “Why would he say that if he was just getting rid of him because of allergies?”

“I… Look,” Sirius scratched the back of his neck, which caused his shirt to ride up, which caused Remus’s eyes to dart to his waistline, then back up to him. He continued: “This may not be any of my business…”

Remus laughed. “Always a promising start to a story.”

Sirius gave him a weak grin. “Flynn… he said a lot of nasty things about you to Regulus. Regulus was pretty upset when I told him about why you broke up. He… he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

That guilt-ridden, hurt look that was all too common on Remus’s face rolled back into place like a stormcloud, and Sirius felt his stomach sink. “I’m really sorry if what I said caused you and your brother to argue. That was… I probably should have minded my own business.”

“No!” Sirius said, wishing he could hug him or take his hand or do anything other than lean against the wall like a prat. “No, I’m glad you told me. I never liked Flynn. And Regulus had a right to know. And he’ll come around. We’ve had worse fights over smaller things. We’re a couple of gay aristocratic bitches,” he said with a weak shrug, “it’s to be expected.” At least, he hoped Regulus would come around. Part of him was always afraid that there would be a Last Fight, like there had been with his parents.

“Aristocratic?” Remus asked with an amused look. “You aren’t  _ that _ posh.”

Sirius laughed. “Actually, I am. My father’s a member of the House of Lords.”

Remus, who’d been about to take a sip of his drink, retreated at the last moment. “Wait, wait,  _ what _ ? Really?”

Sirius nodded. “Yup.”

“Your father’s a peer?”

“He is.”

“You’re nobility?”

“Not anymore, no,” Sirius said, “I was disinherited. So was Regulus. The Black line dies with us… or at least this line of the Black line. We made quite a few lines.” He wrinkled his nose. “They intersected more than they should have.”

“Alright,” Remus set his drink down. “I need to know. How is it that… well…” he trailed off, as if suddenly realizing just how personal the question he was asking was.

Sirius didn’t give a shit. “How did someone who spent his childhood one heart attack away from becoming an earl end up selling dildos and cock rings to university students?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“So I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you but...” he leaned in towards Remus, his voice dropping lower and lower until Remus had to lean in too. They probably looked like they were bowing to each other. 

They locked eyes. Remus’s looked nearly black in the kitchen’s low lighting, the scattered collection of freckles and scars that made up the landscape of his face were just as Sirius had remembered. That soft, quiet beauty.

“But what?” Remus prompted, his words barely more than a breath.

Sirius smiled. “I like boys.”

Remus closed his eyes and let out a soundless laugh. “You know I’d heard that rumor somewhere.”

“And so I stopped being their son when I was about sixteen.”

“Fuck, Sirius, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, best thing that ever happened to me. How fortunate that they had a spare to make up for the rejected heir. Except…”

Remus snorted. “Oh, no.”

“Turns out they just  _ couldn’t _ make heterosexuals. Quite the tragedy. And of course, being gay isn’t enough to get you kicked out of the peerage anymore, so he had to come up with some other bullshit. God, I can’t even remember what it was. He sent me a letter when I turned eighteen.” Sirius smirked and took a long drink from his glass. “My birthday’s two days before Guy Fawkes Day. I shoved it in the bottom of the woodpile and tossed a match.”

“So was it a religious thing?” Remus asked. “Or a carrying on the line thing?” The timer went off and Remus pulled the pie from the oven. Moony’s paws could be heard pitter-pattering along the floor.

“Both, I think. Mostly religious. My parents are quite pious. Unless you count the drinking. And the affairs. And my mother’s gambling habits. Oh, and the cocaine usage.”

“Jesus.” Remus wrinkled his nose. “Sorry.”

Sirius shrugged. “So anyway, I did what most repressed good Christian gay boys do when they get out: I went into full slut mode, for about… well, more than a decade, anyway. Then my uncle died and left me some money, and I decided that I would start a sex shop. It felt like the right thing to do.”

Remus laughed. “That’s amazing.”

Sirius grinned. “It’s grown a lot since then. Some of the local gay community became involved, and now it’s essentially a haven for all the local queers, ne'er-do-wells and perverts. There’s a meeting room upstairs and a few different support groups meet there throughout the month. I also host an ertoic book club and we have a poetry slam every week. During Pride last year I even got a few local nurses set up and provided free HIV screenings. And this year I’m working towards a sort of outreach program with the university and the local schools to expand sex-ed and contraceptive access.”

Remus poured himself another glass and held up the bottle in question.

“Yes please,” Sirius said, holding out his glass.

“That’s amazing,” Remus said. “I had no clue you were doing that much stuff. It’s…” he trailed off. He had to get closer to Sirius to pour, and their eyes met, and Sirius glanced down at Remus’s lips, and noticed for the first time that there was a tiny scar that cut the cupid’s bow of his lip, left side.

“Where do those scars come from?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

“I was in a car accident when I was five,” Remus said, practiced. He’d been expecting the question for a while, Sirius figured. “And when I was twelve I fell while trying to rock climb. Combination of the two,” he looked down, finally breaking the eye contact. “I know they’re pretty intense.”

“They’re…” he was about to say that they weren’t, but that was a lie. They were. They were fascinating to look at as a storm. “They’re beautiful.”

Remus looked up at him, eyebrow quirked. “They aren’t. They really aren’t, but thanks for saying that.” He moved back and put the stopper back into the bottle, and Sirius sensed he’d hit a nerve.

He searched the kitchen counters for a new topic of discussion, but there wasn’t much there. The kitchen was much tidier than the rest of the house, with worn countertops and a refrigerator devoid of magnets. Remus cut them each a slice of the pie, ignoring Moony’s begging face, and handed a plate to Sirius.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing down and remembering the shirt. “So did you go to school in Wales?” 

“Yeah,” Remus said, smiling down at the shirt. “Only for a year or so, just before I went to uni. My mother’s Welch, and we moved there when her parents got sick. After they died, we moved back to England.”

“Oh, shit,” Sirius said, setting down the plate. So much for moving to calmer waters. “I’m sorry.”

Remus shrugged. “It was a while ago. They passed within a month of each other,” his eyes were unfocused. “I think that was for the best, you know? They were one of those old married couples that were functionally on their honeymoon their entire marriage. And they were married 63 years. There was something kind of poetic to them leaving the world together. At least that’s what my mother always said.”

“There’s something sort of scary about those sorts of relationships, don’t you think? Someone else being such a powerful force in your life that their loss could actually kill you?”

Remus nodded. “I know what you mean. Guess it’s a good thing that we never make a choice about whether we develop those sorts of feelings. The choice is made for us.”

“You don’t think that makes it scarier?” Sirius asked. They sat at the small table in the kitchen.

“I don’t think it makes it scarier,” Remus said, swirling his drink in its glass, face pensive. “I think it’s more that… well, when you’re  _ in _ it, it doesn't feel scary. It just feels like a miracle.” A fond little smile came to his lips. “That’s how my grandfather used to describe my grandmother. A miracle.”

Sirius laughed. “Sounds like a lot of pressure to put on a person.”

Remus nodded. “You have a point.” He met Sirius’s eye, and for a moment he said nothing. Then he looked down at his pie, ignoring the begging dog at his side. “So how did you like session tonight? I didn’t get a chance to ask you because apparently a toilet exploded.”

Sirius laughed. Finally warm and dry and fed enough to find his misfortunes amusing. “It was really good. I still feel like an idiot because I never know what numbers to add.”

“No one ever does,” Remus said with a cryptic smile, gathering pie crust flakes with his fork.

“But I had a good time, for what I was able to be there for… I am really sorry for abandoning the party. That was really shitty of me.”

Remus waved him off. “You did the right thing. Your friend needed you. I already messaged the group chat and explained the situation. They all understand. Don’t be surprised if Frank decides to bring you a plate of biscuits next session. Marlene said she thinks you should be knighted.”

Sirius snorted. “Maybe I can get the Queen to create a new title for me. That would really show my father.”

Remus nodded. “What would you want your title to be?”

“The Duke of Dildos.”

“The Earl of Erotica.”

“The Viscount of Vibrators.”

“The Lord of… what sex toys start with an  _ l _ ?”

“Lube? Lord Lube? Lord Latex.”

“Kinky.”

Sirius snorted and tossed back the rest of his drink. He was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges.

Somewhere in the house, an old clock struck eleven. They sat as it made its leisurely way through the eleven bells, the antique sound echoing through the place. There was something so easy about the sound of it. There’d been a grandfather clock in the house he’d grown up in, and whenever it went off it sounded ominous. Remus’s sounded promising.

“I should probably go to bed,” Remus said, almost regretfully. “I have an early class tomorrow.”

Sirius nodded, ignoring the disappointed tug in his stomach.

Remus pulled out some spare quilts and pillows and made a makeshift bed of the sofa. 

As Sirius crawled in, reveling in the mothball/Remus’s laundry soap smell, Remus ushered Moony over towards his bedroom door.

“Goodnight,” he said, flicking off the lights.

“Goodnight,” Sirius called into the dark room. He turned over and fell asleep almost immediately, warm and tipsy and wanting.


	5. Hallow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Warnings for smut and (brief, minor) religious anxiety.

There was a note on the coffee table when he woke up.

_ Class lets out at 9:00. If you’re still around, maybe we could get coffee? _

Remus’s handwriting was sharp-cornered and firm. Sirius didn’t envy the students who had to decipher his scribblings on their assignments. It took him a minute to read the message — especially since Moony kept sniffing the paper and Sirius’s hair, his face, his ear...

He looked around the table, the sofa, searched his pockets. Then he remembered. Sirius was phoneless for the first time since the late 2000s, and it was a fascinating feeling.

He felt lighter, somehow, disconnected. Like the sunny room and the giant dog and the unfamiliar clothes were a liminal space, and he was becoming someone else. He was off the grid. He also had no clue what time it was.

The clock on the mantle said it was 11:50, but Sirius was willing to hazard a guess that it was not up to date. Sirius poked his head into the kitchen. The microwave claimed it was 6:49 and the small clock built into the oven said 2:01. Both also unlikely.

He looked down the hall behind him. At the end, beckoning, was Remus’s room. Surely he had an alarm clock or something? If he had these silly morning classes? 

He itched to explore the space, but going in there without Remus’s permission felt… wrong somehow. Like opening a gift before Christmas. Like reading the end of the book and spoiling the ending like…

Sirius sighed, annoyed with himself. There’s that old Black ego.

Then he remembered the grandfather clock that had cut his conversation with Remus short the night before, and went out to the entryway to check it. 

7:58. He had an hour to kill, at least. He had no phone, nothing of his own that wasn’t wet, and no intentions whatsoever of missing his coffee date — 

_ Not a date. Probably not a date. _

— with Remus.

The only logical thing to do was snoop.

Maybe he should have been ashamed of how little time it took him to make that decision, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Sirius was no one’s angel — well, there was that one bloke back when he was in uni who liked to call him  _ angel _ but it was usually while Sirius was engaging in an activity he was fairly sure would never be immortalized in the stained glass of a church window.

He started with the usual — bathroom cupboards (Boring. Nothing to suggest secret drug habits, illicit sexual proclivities, or chronic anything), desk (journal articles, aging books with broken spines, a frankly incomprehensible system for filing bills), refrigerator (beer, some very sad looking vegetables, and — distressingly — Marmite.)

He examined the bookshelves — staunchly academic, though there were a handful of romance novels. He examined the trinkets more closely, and noticed that though much of the house had a faint, respectable, absent-minded sort of accumulation of dust, the collection on the mantelpiece was spotless. 

He checked in with the clock again at the end of his travels — he’d killed half an hour — and fell back onto the sofa, allowing Moony to rest his chin on his lap.

He supposed the next logical thing to do was pick up a book and start reading. That way, when Remus arrived, he’d assume Sirius had spent the whole time reading and may not notice that everything in his bathroom cupboard was perhaps not  _ exactly _ where it had been when he last saw it.

He got up from the sofa — Moony whined, he ignored it — and reached for a book with an interesting looking spine.  _ The Complete Poems of T.S. Eliot. _ He flipped to a random page and a small slip of paper fell out.

At first he thought nothing of it, just slipped it between some random pages as a book mark and started reading, but then he caught the name on it. Upside down, followed by a heart:

_ Flynn _ .

Sirius pulled it out and read it.

_ Moony vomited on the carpet again. I tried to clean it up, but there’s still a wet spot.  _

_ I’ll be late tonight at the hospital. Probably won’t be back at the flat until tomorrow afternoon. Would you mind taking care of dinner? Also, Moony’ll need his walk. I know you have your game, but you know how he gets. _

_ Also I’m a little short on money this month — would you be able to cover the electric bill? I can pay you back soon. _

_ Anyway, see you tomorrow! _

_ Flynn _

“What a prat,” Sirius whispered. Moony came over, seeking out attention, and Sirius scratched behind his ears. “Is your former owner a prat? Yes he is, yes he is…”

Sirius decided the book was a cursed volume and set it back up on the shelf. Though being reminded of Flynn’s existence — an unwelcome thing in any circumstance — was particularly unpleasant in Remus’s house.

Try as he may, he was never quite able to banish the accusations Regulus had laid out — Remus’s possessiveness, jealously, whatever. Just because Flynn was a prat didn’t mean that Remus was innocent. Sure, in his journeys through the house, he hadn’t seen anything incriminating, but still…

There was that idea, always nagging him quietly from the very back of his thoughts. That unplaceable unpleasantness he usually associated with hearing a nasty rumor about a celebrity he liked. The slightest dent in the shine.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to recon with the discomfort. It was an implacable, unmovable heaviness in his chest, and try as he may, he couldn’t be rid of it.

At some point, the door opened, and Remus came in.

He smiled when he saw Sirius, and it was like the sun burning away a morning fog, and his concerns quieted down, as they usually did when he was around Remus. When he was around Remus, he was more focused on things like  _ is he looking at me right now? Does my hair look good?  _ and  _ what does  _ that _ mean? _

“Hey,” Remus said, “how’d you sleep?”

“Like a brick,” Sirius answered honestly.

“Are you hungry at all? There’s a nice little breakfast place close to campus.”

-/-

“The Herman von Droit?” Sirius cocked an eyebrow, reading one of the special sandwiches on the menu board. “Why is that name familiar?”

Remus glanced up at the chalkboard on the side of the food van. “Herman von Droit? He was a poet from around here. That’s where they got the name for Von Droit Park. You know? With that statue at the center?”

“The one with a shiny crotch?” Sirius said as the queue moved and they both shuffled forward.

“Yeah,” Remus smiled. “Legend has it rubbing his cock gives you luck on your exams.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius said, his breath making a little cloud in the air. “I spread that rumor about myself back in uni.”

“How’d that work out for you?” Remus asked, turning to glance at him. The early spring light hit his eye at an angle that emphasized the dimensions of green in his eyes, like perfectly blown glass.

“Never heard any complaints. Though I did always have a thing for the smart ones,” he conceded, giving Remus a flirty grin.

Remus let out a little huffing laugh. “Did you ever run a formal study? Get a control group at different scoring levels…”

“Heh. Scoring levels.”

Remus rolled his eyes, smiling. “And compare them to a group you’re sleeping with.”

“I’ll only consent to this study if I get to choose who goes in which group.”

Remus snorted. “Write up a proposal, see if you can get it through an ethical review board.”

They made it to the front of the queue and ordered. Sirius ended up ordering the sandwich named after that poet — Von Driot. It was a pretentious, hipster type affair: lots of egg whites and a smoky type of cheese, served on a hard sourdough type of bread so sturdy that Sirius was a little worried it would take his teeth out.

“Von Driot’s actually buried nearby,” Remus said, taking a long swig of his fair trade latte, “if you wanted to check it out.”

“Sure!” Sirius said, perking up a little at the idea of continuing his time with Remus. “Provided I don’t have to take an emergency trip to the dentist,” he muttered, yanking another chunk of the sandwich free with his molars, like a dog working the last scraps of meat from a bone.

Remus smiled. “They do like their crusty bread,” he said. He took a similarly arduous bite from his own sandwich, which seemed to involve a lot of peppers. 

“How often do you come here?” Sirius asked.

“More often than I’d like to admit,” Remus said with a self-conscious smile. “It’s on the way to work and I’m usually running behind schedule. And it isn’t usually so crowded then. Also they make a scramble that is  _ excellent  _ for curing hangovers.”

“Have a lot of experience with those?” Sirius teased.

“More often than I’d like to admit,” Remus laughed. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten properly toasted,” Sirius mused. “Haven’t really gone out drinking much.”

“Not even with Matt?” Remus asked, a playful smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’d always meant to ask you how that date went.”

He felt the urge to lie. Some old, petty instinct he’d never quite defeated. He swallowed it down with a swig of his hipster coffee and told the truth. “It was… honestly? It was really boring. He was lovely, but there wasn’t that spark, you know? I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Oh,” Remus said, “I’m sorry to hear that.” His voice was unreadable, and so was the pause that followed.

They stared out at traffic together. Cars drove through a nearby puddle on the street, rhythmically splashing the pavement in front of the bench they’d claimed. They were just barely past the waterline.

Remus passively observed another wave crashing on their sad little shore, and broke the silence. “I have a date this Friday.”

It sounded like a confession.

“That’s nice,” Sirius said, because he was supposed to. “Tell me about him… her? Them?”

“Him,” Remus confirmed with an amused look. “There’s not much to tell, really. Met him online. So far he doesn't sound like a serial killer. We’re getting drinks at seven.”

“Is he cute?” Sirius asked.

Remus gave a little shrug. “Not sure. Seems good looking enough. I’m an optimist at heart… well, that’s a lie… but I do like to assume that most people simply aren’t photogenic.”

Sirius laughed. 

“I’m not,” Remus said, “so I try to give the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’m sure you’re plenty photogenic,” Sirius said.

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Eh, no. Thank you for the vote of confidence, though. I appreciate it. Had I not accosted you in a bar, though, I doubt you would have swiped right on me.”

Sirius opened his mouth to contradict that, but shut it again when he considered. Impossible as it was now to imagine a world where he was not hopelessly, debilitatingly attracted to Remus Lupin, he wasn’t actually sure he would have swiped right on a Remus he didn’t know.

Food for thought, that.

“I don’t know,” Sirius admitted at length. “But if I hadn’t, I would have been an idiot.”

Remus looked down at that, blushing in his quiet, comely way. There was something so endlessly charming about the thirty-something professor with freckled cheeks and the bashfulness of a schoolgirl.

_ Especially _ , the part of Sirius that was always thinking about sex added,  _ given the glorious thing he tucked into those tweed trousers every morning. _

“Right… well,” Remus said. “About ready to visit Mr. Von Droit?”

Sirius crumpled up the little wrapper his sandwich had come in and stuck it in his pocket. “Sure.”

Remus led him on a quick walk, which was very nearly pleasant. It was that stretch of the early spring when winter seemed less like an ominous, threatening, force and more like a drunk hanging around the bar past last call, heavy and lazy and shuffled slowly towards the door. Breezes were warmish and coolish in turn and sodden twigs and dead leaves littered the ground from the wind the night before. If Sirius lingered in a sunny spot for a moment he could feel the heat of it just starting to reach his skin through the lingering damp clinging to his jacket. His shoes were still slightly wet, despite the newspaper Remus had stuffed in them.

The graveyard was small and dense with moss and low-hanging trees. It was barely visible from the road due to a tall, thick hedgerow that splattered Sirius with water droplets when he brushed past. 

Remus led him towards the center of the space, to a grave flanked by two stunted looking trees that would probably have flowers on them in a few months.

“And there he is,” Remus said, gesturing towards the wet, lichen-laced thing. Only his last name was visible. And just some of the dates… Eighteen-forty something and…

“Herman Von Driot,” Remus announced with more grandeur than Sirius felt the thing was due. “Born May 14, 1842, died January 7th, 1880.”

“Wow,” Sirius said. “He was young.”

“Hence the rather sad grave,” Remus said. “His poetry didn’t gain much attention until after he died. And even then, only in some niche communities.”

“Such as…?”

“The _____shire Society for the Protection of Persons and Places of Historical Significance.”

“What?”

“Back in the 1900s, it was a favorite institution around here of professors’ wives with little else to do. They raised the money for the park and the crotch-rubbing-statue.”

“Ah, well,” Sirius said. “Doing the good work.”

“They also had these trees planted by Von Driot’s grave,” Remus said. “Apparently they had to move someone else’s grave to do it. Legend has it she haunts the park at night, looking for her tombstone.”

“Did they not put her tombstone back?” Sirius asked.

“I don’t know. I had a student who researched this graveyard for a project a year ago, but she was never able to figure out who it was. It’s possible it was just a myth, but people did all sorts of shady shit to poor people back then. And as you can see,” he gestured around at the graves which were, on the whole, ill maintained and rather modest to begin with, “this isn’t exactly where the well-to-do got buried.”

“That’s kinda fucked up,” Sirius said.

“It is,” Remus agreed. “And it’s even more fucked up that there’s virtually no record of the people buried here. Older records burned in a fire and someone tried to organize things back in the seventies, but by then a lot of the most important information was lost. People were buried here from 1740-something to 1940-something, but estimates figure we only know two thirds of the name. A lot of them are just...gone.”

Something about the finality in Remus’s tone made Sirius shudder. A sharp, left-over winter wind blew through the graveyard.

“Is it bad that for all of the sadness they contain, I really like graveyards?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“No,” Remus said as they started to wander the graves, “I like them too. There was one close to where I grew up. I’ve always had a soft spot for them.”

A little bubble of pleasure rose up in Sirius. He smiled at the realization they had something in common. “There was a graveyard on my parents’ estate.”

“ _ Estate _ .” Remus breathed the word with a laugh.

“It’s where most of the members of my family have been buried for the last four hundred years,” Sirius continued. “The graves are maintained, so all the names and dates can be read clearly. Regulus and I, we used to spend a lot of time in that cemetery, partly to ignore our parents, but partly because it was fun to look at the stones and make up stories about the people buried there. We gave them the most salacious lives we could think of,” he smiled at the memory.

“Who was the most interesting?” Remus asked.

“Our great-great-great-great-great grandmother Matilda was a pirate,” Sirius said conversationally. “She operated primarily along the Barabary coast. I think we invented about, oh… seventeen or eighteen lovers for her.”

“Matilda sounds like quite the player.”

“Oh, she was. That irresistible Black charm, you know?”

Remus let out a little huffing laugh. “I know.” He wandered over to another grave before Sirius could investigate what he meant.

“Do you do anything similar?” Sirius asked when he met Remus at the grave. He couldn’t read the person’s name, or birthdate. All he could see was that they died in 1828.

“Sort of,” Remus said after a moment. “I don’t so much come up with stories for them as wonder what the real stories were. Who they were, what they looked like. What did they want from life? Who did they love? What did they worry about in the middle of the night?”

“Mmmm,” Sirius hummed, looking down at the grave, wondering.

“So I like graveyards, but they always fill me with a sort of melancholy. I want to see everyone here as a person, but all I know are their names and dates. I find myself mourning all the friendships I never got to have, all the conversations I’ll never have. I mean,” he wrinkled his nose, “I’m queer, so I know a lot of them wouldn’t like me anyway, but some of them might have. Statistically at least one person here’s gotta be gay, too,” he swept his arm out towards the sea of gravestones.

“I wonder which of them were hot.”

“I bet Eugene was fit as hell,” Remus said, jerking his head towards the grave of a man who’d died in 1854.

“New game — find the sexiest corpse in the graveyard.”

Remus laughed.

“But I think I get what you mean,” Sirius said. “When I was younger, I wondered who the absolute perfect person in the world for me was, you know, like a soulmate? And I figured, given how many people there are, that I’d never meet them. And even if I did, they’d probably not speak English. Or… and this one really fucked me up when I was ten… maybe they were dead. Maybe my soulmate was a Roman legionnaire, or a samurai from the eleventh century, or a Mayan priest. Maybe the person I could have loved more than anyone else was already dead and buried, and I’d never meet them… except maybe in the afterlife.”

“So you believe in soulmates?” Remus asked.

“I don’t and I do, you know? Intellectually, if you sat me down and asked me to puzzle out, I’d figure no. You know, logically. But also, yes, I 100% believe in soulmates. I also don’t believe in ghosts, though they absolutely exist. I don’t believe in God, but I’ve heard Him speak to me. I don’t believe in astrology, but I am  _ such _ a Scorpio.”

Remus snorted. “Fair enough.”

“And you?”

“Soulmates? No. Ghosts, maybe. God… ambivalent. Astrology? It’s probably a load of bunk. Though that might just be because astrological articles usually shit on Pisces. Do you believe in the afterlife, then? If your soulmate is dead, do you think you’ll ever meet him?”

Sirius considered it for a minute. “Honestly, the fire and brimstone of my childhood has made  _ any _ conception of the afterlife an unpleasant idea to me. I spent so much time convinced I’d got to hell…” he trailed off, the oldest anxiety of his life turning in his stomach. He took a deep breath. “And then some days — if the planets align, or whatever…”

“If the moon is in Libra or whatever,” Remus said, smiling and rolling his eyes.

“Or if Neptune is square something. I think something happens when Neptune is square something.”

“That does sound like something that would make something happen.”

“Right,” Sirius said with a smile, “if I somehow manage to outpace my rearing, and allow myself to consider the existence of a Universe or Godhead that doesn’t much care that I enjoy cock as much as I do… sometimes the idea seems nice, you know? Eternal life? Could be fun.”

“I always wondered how it would play out romantically,” Remus said.

“Romantically?”

“You know, in a hypothetical afterlife, where everyone is in with everyone — no hell—”

“No hell,” Sirius agreed with a little smile.

“Would people stay with the person they were with in life? For example, if my grandparents — the ones I went to live with—”

Sirius nodded, he remembered. He liked that he knew enough about Remus now to remember specifics like that.

“If they’re in some sort of afterlife right now, I wonder if they’re still together? And then there’s my other grandparents. My grandmother died when I was seven, and my grandfather remarried when I was twelve. They seemed really happy together, and I got to know Nan — that’s what I called her — more than my biological grandmother. When my grandfather passed, my father said, ‘at least he’s with the love of his life again.’ And I can remember just thinking, what about Nan? Does she just somehow not count? And when she dies, what then?”

“Polyamory?” Sirius said with a little shrug.

“Mmmm,” Remus smiled, “maybe. But you know what I mean, right?”

“I know what you mean,” Sirius said.

“But then there’s what you were talking about earlier — what if suddenly everyone who ever lived is an option? Would you just continue on in the same relationships, or do people change in the afterlife like they change in life-life? Do couples outgrow each other over thousands of years?”

“Right,” Sirius said, “and do relationships even exist in the same way they do in life-life?”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked.

“I mean, there’s certain pressures that make people want to build committed relationships, you know? Childrearing, finances, convenience, loneliness, the specter of death breathing down your neck…”

“Right, all the traditional romantic enticements,” Remus said with a little grin.

Sirius nodded. “If those are all gone — in a hypothetical eternal afterlife — do people feel the need to be in relationships?”

“You don’t think people would want to be in relationships?”

“I mean, if your time ceases to have any value, what do you do with it? Do you even much care who you’d spend it with?”

Remus acknowledged his point with a cock of his head. “Well, I will say as I’ve gotten older I’ve become very particular about who I spend my time with. Nothing like the specter of death breathing down your neck to encourage a certain amount of discernment, you know?”

Sirius smiled. “Well, thanks for spending one of your finite number of mornings with me.”

Remus matched his smile, and for a moment they said nothing. The breeze that rolled through next was warm and easy, and its smell reminded him of the first buds of spring.

Remus broke the stare first. “I’m going to need to head back soon,” he said. “I’ve got another class to get ready for.”

Sirius nodded, and Remus soon left to attend to his things.

Sirius stayed in that graveyard for a while, trying to read the names that could be read, and thinking about how quickly time runs out.

-/-

Tonks just said something, and he had no clue what it was.

“Mmmm?” Sirius looked up from his new phone, closing out the article on Scorpio and Pisces sexual compatibility.

“Do you remember how the last one was set up? The instructions are in Dutch or something.” Tonks was sitting on the floor, holding out a newspaper-sized sheet of white paper in disgust. All around here were the metal and plastic components of the new display rack Sirius had ordered.

“I think the last one got set up while Bill was still working here. I wasn’t the one who did it. Take over the till and I’ll give it a go.”

They swapped places, and Sirius almost immediately regretted it. The instructions — which were, in fact, in German — were unhelpful, and the whole construction process seemed to require a tool that was not included in the box. He went to the back room and rifled through the small, haphazard collection of tools he’d accumulated over the last few years. Hopefully, Bill had tossed whatever it was that was needed to put the stupid rack together into the back of one of the drawers…

He shuffled through the collection of bent nails, rusted screws, and assorted pieces of plastic… about fifteen little Alan wrenches, two screwdrivers…

Aha!

He pulled the tool — a wonky thing that he’d have called a wrench but that probably wasn’t  _ technically _ a wrench — from the darkest depths of the drawer and…

And it was sticky. Why were things always sticky?

It took a while to remove what stickiness could be removed, and when he went back into the main shop, Tonks appeared to be deep in conversation with a customer.

The customer turned around. It wasn’t just any customer, it was Alice.

Alice Longbottom, the wife of Frank Longbottom.

Who happened to be the party cleric.

Who happened to be holding a strap-on. And blushing.

“Sirius!” she said, holding the thing close to her chest, as if he wouldn’t recognize it. Her cheeks were positively scarlet. “I didn’t know  _ this _ was your shop.”

Sirius smiled at her. The city they lived in was big enough that his wasn’t the only sex shop, but small enough that anyone trying to avoid him by going to a random one was taking their life into their own hands.

“If you’re worried about me telling anyone about anything you ever buy from here, don’t worry. I have a strict confidentiality policy. Not that you should feel embarrassed about anything you’re getting.”

Alice relaxed a little, and Tonks grinned at her. “Sirius especially isn’t in a place to judge anyone for their habits.”

“Thanks, Tonks,” Sirius deadpanned.

Her shoulders relaxed. “Embarrassed isn’t the term I’d use… just, surprised?” Alice shrugged her bag up her shoulder. “It’s good to see you doing well,” she said, “Remus told us about your ordeal last week.”

Now it was Sirius’s turn to blush. “Yeah… well. It was… yeah. I intend to keep my phone on silent and out of the room. James and Lily have been informed that I am functionally dead to the world until session’s done.”

“None of us blame you for leaving early, just so you know,” Alice said, the strap on so casually hanging from her arm by then Sirius was a little worried it’d fall to the floor. “I think you’re a bit of a hero, dashing across town to get those nappies changed. They’re lucky to have you as a friend. Wait,” she frowned, then her face broke into a very cute grin.

_ Damn _ , Sirius thought,  _ if I liked girls… _

“You said James and Lily. That wouldn’t happen to be James and Lily Potter?”

“You know James and Lily?” Tonks asked. “How?”

“We were in birthing classes together,” Alice explained. “They had Harry around the time I had Neville.”

They didn’t mention their child often at session, but Sirius had noticed the perennial bags under his eyes, which he was coming to understand as the universal symbol of new parenthood.

“Aww,” Tonks cooed. “Maybe they’ll be friends.”

“Lily and I were thinking of setting them up on a few play dates soon-ish,” Alice said, readjusting her giant mum-bag with one arm while balancing the small blue dildo she was buying with the other. “Get them socialized, and all that. Speaking of which, I figure I should be going. Where can I…?”

“Right over here,” Sirius said, gesturing to the counter.

He gave her a 20% discount. She protested. He insisted.

“To make up for cutting off the last bit of session,” he said, packaging everything up.

“Thank you,” Alice relented, with a little embarrassed smile. “Do you think I should buy more lube?”

“Is it your first time? Or, I guess, his first time?”

She colored a little. “I think so… we’d never really talked about it until a few weeks ago. Sex after the baby has been… well… let’s just say there’s times it feels a bit more comfortable to do it on his turf.”

Sirius laughed. “I have about fifty samples back here, you might as well take some,” he dropped them into the bag. “And if you think you’re using too much, you aren’t. Trust me.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” Alice said, “see you Friday!”

“She seems nice,” Tonks said after Alice left.

“She is,” Sirius said, still feeling the warmth Alice seemed to carry around with herself. If the prettiest day in June was a person, that person would be Alice.

“Speaking of nice… well, actually that’s a terrible segway. Regulus texted me yesterday and asked if it would be okay if he went to poetry night.”

“Jesus,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “I feel like I’m in school again.”

“I made him promise to be civil. I think he feels shitty for how he talked to you.”

“As he should,” Sirius said, kneeling down by the pile of rack bits and trying to figure out where to start. The angles of the illustrations in the instruction sheet were all fucky. But his heart was feeling a bit lighter than it had moments ago. If Regulus wanted to speak with him, he wanted to speak with Regulus.

“So he’ll be coming to poetry night.”

So would Remus, Sirius remembered. Well, he figured, Regulus would have to see him eventually. Sirius had every intention of living a life in which Remus was a fixture.

-/-

“Sirius,” Remus said, “your turn. What do you want to do?”

Sirius looked down at his sheet. He was nearly out of spell slots.

“Uh, I try to hit it with my quarterstaff?”

“Alright,” Remus said, “make an attack roll.”

“That’d be a… one second… a 12?”

“Unfortunately, that doesn't hit. You lunge towards it, and it manages to jump out of the way.”

“I…” he looked down at the little map and the system of figurines. His little wizard figure was surrounded by wolves. He wasn’t sure what he could do to get himself out of that situation.

He glanced around the table. Everyone looked… nervous?

“I should maybe be able to get to you by next turn,” Marlene said, eyeing the figurine she used to represent her character. “Maybe.”

“How many hit points do you have?”

Sirius glanced down at his character sheet. “Three?”

“Well, shit.”

Soon, the wolves’ turns came around.

“The one in the middle lashes out at you. That’ll be a… well, that’s a natural twenty.”

“Fuck,” Frank says, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Sirius.

“So damage-wise, that’s…” Remus looked up, face apologetic. “Twenty-one.”

“Well…” Sirius sat back, the realization setting in. So…”

“What’s your maximum hit points?” Remus asked, and from his tone, if Sirius didn’t know the circumstance he would have assumed he was being informed his cat had just been killed by a car.

“Fourteen?” Sirius said.

“Fuck,” Marlene said.

“I… Sirius, I’m really sorry, but your character just died.”

A vaguely unpleasant sensation followed. “Oh.”

“The wolf lunges at Ulrich, biting him in the throat and killing him instantly,” Remus said, with what felt like undue gravity.

The rest of the fight progressed quickly. His teammates quickly avenged his death, found the necklace the noblewoman had asked them to find, and got out of the dungeon.

Session ended a little early, and everyone looked at Sirius with sad looks on their faces.

Sirius felt his cheeks burning. Was he really that pathetic?

“You okay?” Remus asked, and he meant it.

“I… yeah?” He looked about himself, uncomfortable. “Is it uncommon for characters to die?”

“I mean, it doesn’t happen every day, but it’s not rare,” Remus said.

“So… what do players do once their character dies? Am I… out of the group?” he knew no better way to ask that. His pulse was thumping in his temple.

Alice’s eyes widened in alarm. “God, no! People usually just make a new character. And if you want, we can all go on a quest to try to bring your wizard back.”

“Eh,” Sirius said, perking up at  _ just make a new character _ , “die young, leave a pretty corpse.”

“That’s the spirit,” Frank laughed.

“If you want to make a new character some time this week,” Remus said, “I can help you.”

If it was possible to perk up even more, Sirius did. “Sounds good to me.”

Everyone started to stretch out, packing up their things and finishing the snacks littering the table. Frank started telling him a story about a paladin he’d played back in uni who’d gotten one-shotted by a Beholder, but all Sirius — consummate professional he still maintained he was — could think was  _ Damn, bet you got  _ railed _ by your wife last night _ . Frank was walking a little funny, but maybe that was his imagination.

Remus finished packing everything while they were talking. He looked like he was in a hurry, and Sirius’s heart sank when he remembered why.

“Good luck on your date,” Dorcas said as she and Marlene went for the door.

“Thanks,” Remus said with a smile, adjusting his sharper-than-usual collar. He caught Sirius’s eye and cleared his throat. “So, I don’t have a  _ lot _ of free time this week, but if you can come to campus on Monday around eleven, there’s a little cafe where we could meet.”

“That works for me,” Sirius said, putting away his things. He looked at his dead character’s sheet and tried to figure out where to put it.

“Looking forward to it,” Remus said breezily. He let Sirius out, then closed the door, tossing a, “be good, Moony,” over his shoulder.

“Good luck on your date,” Sirius said as they walked down to the street together.

“Thanks,” Remus said. He looked like he was going to say something before he unlocked his car, but eventually he said nothing. Just waved at him as he drove away.

-/-

Sirius got home and collapsed on his bed. He let out a groan of frustration, and immediately reached for the bottle of lube in his nightstand.

He unzipped his jeans, palming himself through the thin fabric of his pants. He’d been sexually frustrated since lunch, and session hadn’t helped. The vague ideas that had been floating into and out of his head all day… There were times when he’d handle the merchandise in his shop and see them as nothing but catalog items and things in need of either a markup or a sale price, but every once in a while, all he’d be able to think about would be sex.

The only other thing he’d be able to think of in that moment was Remus’s date. Which was happening just then. With someone who wasn’t him. So sex it was.

He pulled himself out, fingers ghosting up and down his shaft. He never saw Remus’s bedroom, but his mind created a staged one anyway — probably dark sheets, pillows strewn about. He imagined himself pushing Remus down onto the bed, crawling on top of him. He’d  _ attack _ his mouth. He wanted to trace that tiny scar with his tongue. He wanted to whisper every dirty promise he could imagine into his lips. He wanted to suck hickeys into his neck so big and prominent that all Remus’s students would notice it the next day, no matter how far back in the room they were.

He wanted to explore his body, to memorize every line of his form. He wanted to bite his nipples and kiss his inner thighs. He wanted to make Remus as mad for him as he was for Remus. He wanted to…

His hand sped up on his cock. He reached into his nightstand and pulled out one of the dildos. 

He wanted to tie Remus to the bed. The bed in his mind went from headboardless to one rigged with an elaborate system of ties and bars. Remus’s pretty hands with the long, scarred fingers were tied up and back, his body prone and on display. His cock…

_ His cock _ …

Sirius circled a finger around his entrance.

Remus’s cock was proud and leaking and curved slightly up towards his stomach. Sirius imagined himself running his thumb slowly up the underside, watching it twitch, desperate for more stimulation.

He’d tease him as long as he could stand it, Sirius decided. He’d suck the tip, kiss up and down the length, take his balls in his mouth. He’d nearly get him off with his hand, then retreat just before Remus went over the edge.

Sirius started fingering himself open.

He’d make Remus desperate. Make him  _ beg _ for satisfaction. He’d push Remus as far as he could go. Edge him until he was absolutely  _ gone _ with lust, then he’d climb on top of him and sink down on that beautiful, beautiful cock.

Sirius pressed the dildo into himself, biting his lip as it went in.

He’d move on it slowly, because in his mind he was a irresistible seducer and not a lonely bloke furiously fucking himself with some silicone. He’d move slow, dragging himself up and down, making Remus feel every bit of him.

Then he’d ride him  _ hard _ .

In his mind, he was bouncing up and down on Remus’s cock, staring into his brilliant green eyes.

In real life he was arching off the bed, pumping the dildo into himself with practiced speed and precision.

In his mind, Remus was moments away from falling apart.

In real life, he was barreling towards an orgasm, the bed creaking under his movement.

In his mind, he came untouched, bringing Remus along with him.

In real life, his free hand started tugging on his cock, and he came with a cry after a few strokes.

In his mind, he collapsed on Remus, and they kissed and stroked each other’s skin as they came down from their high.

In real life he was alone and panting on his bed. The room was quiet and cold, and Remus was half the town away.

-/-

The meeting to create character number two was held in a small coffee shop attached to the university’s library. Sirius went to campus often to help with local LGBT events, but that was his first time in that particular building. It was massive and Victorian-looking, and the cafe had portraits of angels painted on the ceiling. He felt very fancy, dusting the flakes from his chocolate croissant off his character sheet.

“So I was thinking maybe this time around I’d create a fighter,” Sirius said.

“Sounds good,” Remus nodded. He was in full professor-mode: black turtleneck (which Sirius had decided was most certainly  _ not _ to hide hickeys — Remus hadn’t offered information about his date, and Sirius hadn’t asked), lovely tight trousers. “Have you given any thought to his backstory? We can find a way to integrate him into the story organically next session, but first we’ll need to know why exactly he would be joining them.”

It took them about half an hour, but eventually they put together the story of Kendric (Sirius had used an online generator to come up with the name). Kendric was a street brawler of some renown in the village the party was staying at. They contrived ways to interject him into the story.

“Maybe they’re walking down the street, and they see him get kicked out of a nearby pub,” Sirius suggested. “I’ve always been partial to the dramatic entrance.”

“Bit undignified, don’t you think?” Remus asked with an amused glint in his eye.

“Perhaps,” Sirius said, “but I still like the idea of him arriving with a  _ bang _ . Besides, Kendric attracts trouble like shit attracts flies. He’s impulsive, ever since his brother was taken away by the authorities and he decided he’d do whatever he needed to to get him back.”

Remus looked down at his notes. “Political prisoner brother is new. What did his brother get in trouble for?”

“He was circulating pamphlets describing an illicit affair between the Prince Regent and an opera girl.”

Remus gave the notion an appreciative nod. “The Prince Regent  _ is _ something of a rascal, as Prince Regents are wont to be. Why exactly was the brother so determined to spread this salacious gossip?”

Sirius leaned in conspiratorially. “Because he and the Prince Regent were once an item.”

“Ooooh,” Remus jotted that down. “Spicy. So how did the Prince and your brother meet? This is pretty far from the capital.”

“The local lord has a hunting cabin nearby. About five years ago they had a chance encounter while my brother was collecting wildflowers in the woods.”

“Very… pastoral.”

“They had a torrid love affair over the course of the summer, then the Prince discarded him and went back to the capital, scarcely giving him an additional thought. My brother vowed revenge, and became a journalist, digging up all the dirt he could on the Prince. The most recent pamphlet is just the last in a long string of relentless attacks.”

“And so your brother was taken away by the authorities and… what?”

“That,” Sirius said, swirling the last of his cappuccino in his mug before tossing it down, “I leave to the Dungeon Master.”

Remus wrote something down and turned the page in his notebook. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

They rolled his stats, which were slightly less impressive than those he had for the wizard.

“An 8 Intellegence,” Sirius wrote with a wince.

“That’s not  _ dumb _ dumb,” Remus reassured, “just a little… slow.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose.

“10’s average,” Remus said, as if that would make him feel better.

“It would explain the recklessness.”

“And you’ve got a 17 Strength score,” Remus said, “that’ll come in handy.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius said.

“So what sort of a weapon do you want?” Remus asked.

“What’s the biggest one they have?”

They went through the list together, slowly crafting Kendric and getting everything set up for next session.

“Also you’ve heard a rumor recently that there’s been some strange activity in the old mines,” Remus said, handing him a small slip of paper. “Whenever I integrate a new character, I like to give them information they can share with the party.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said, slipping it into his notes.

“I think that’s just about everything you need to have set up. How are you feeling about the new character?”

“Is there a way to make characters smarter in-game?”

“I mean, yeah. But not usually until higher levels. I really wouldn’t worry about the 8. It’s not that bad.”

“Mmmm. Are you still planning on coming to poetry night?” Sirius asked.

“I am,” Remus said with a smile. He picked the last scone crumbs off his plate.

Sirius felt a giddy little jump in his chest. “Great! There’s just one thing you should know beforehand. My brother’s going to be there. My real brother, not the Regent-fucker.”

Remus’s face fell. “Oh. Do you think maybe I shouldn’t go, then?”

“No! No. You’re my friend, and I already told him you’d be coming. If he wants to be a little shit about it, that’s on him. He’s been told to be on his best behavior. Besides,” he smiled, “I really want you to come. I think you’ll like it.”

Remus still looked a little nervous, but he nodded. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

-/-

Making up with Regulus after that fight was like making up with him after every other fight. They gave each other a strained smile, Regulus said, “I’m sorry I was such a prat,” and Sirius had to go fix a mic stand. That was that.

Regulus was warned about Remus, Remus was warned about Regulus, and they selected seats far apart from each other.

That was that.

He was certain that that would most certainly not  _ remain _ that. But for now, he’d accept it.

Though in his head Remus’s presence at poetry night was functionally a date, his hosting duties (Tonks had another thing to go to, so he was the only one running the show) prevented him from spending much quality time with Remus. Remus seemed to be holding his own quite well. He was sipping tea from a rainbow mug and chatting with a middle-aged couple. The tenuous rolodex of names and connections Sirius haphazardly maintained in his hidden-item-game-messy-desk of a mind suggested they were  _ maybe _ the parents of the sixteen year old with the undercut and a gift for erotic haiku.

Sirius had a clipboard and little time to do much but glance at Remus wistfully, Regulus worriedly, and the clock impatiently. There were eight poets on the docket that night, and only three of them went over their time. By the standards of the average poetry night, that was a success.

Eventually it was over and the customers and poets started milling out. Remus and Regulus lingered, so determinately not looking at each other that Sirius overheard one departing couple wonder aloud to each other if they were in the middle of a “domestic.” 

“Remus!” Sirius said, striding over towards him once he had a free moment because  _ fuck it _ . “How’d you like the show?”

Regulus slipped into the break room without acknowledging either of them. Remus’s eyes followed him, but he quickly snapped his attention back to Sirius.

“It was really cool! I wish I’d known about it sooner,” his smile was genuine, and Sirius’s shoulders relaxed a bit.

“So you think you’ll want to come back next week?” he asked, starting to collect the scattered mugs in their designated tub.

“I mean,” Remus went to pick up a mug that said  _ Does This Mug Make Me Look Gay? _ and set it in the tub, “if it’s not going to be a problem.” He looked pointedly over at the door to the break room.

“Not a problem at all!” Sirius said, loud enough that he figured Regulus could hear him. Which was maybe a bit shit of him.

“Then yeah, I’d love to. I have a few students who might really like it as well. Do you advertise the event on campus?”

“Tonks put a few flyers up around the LGBT Resource Center, but that’s about it. She wanted to put more up in different places, but I didn’t want to advertise in places where… well… where people with less than good intentions might get ideas, you know?”

“I mean, campus is fairly liberal — you’ve seen it during pride, I imagine?”

Sirius nodded, laughing. “I’m half the reason why it’s  _ like  _ that during pride.”

Remus’s lips twitched. “But I get your point. And honestly there’s something charming about it being a small event. You feel… I dunno,  _ special _ for being included.” There was a glimmer in his eyes when he said, “thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” Sirius said, smiling back at him.

And they locked eyes and it was  _ beautiful _ and Remus’s eyes darted down to his lips and…

There was a loud crashing sound from the break room. 

Sirius winced. “I should go make sure my brother didn’t just kill himself.”

Remus nodded, whatever it was that made his eyes twinkle earlier was gone. “I should probably get going then. See you at session?”

Siris nodded. “See you at session.”

Remus gave him a final, little  _ look _ , and Sirius’s heart was still aflutter when he walked into the break room.

“Reg?” he called, turning the corner. “You okay in here?”

Regulus was picking up shards of a broken plate. “Don’t come in here! I think the glass got everywhere.”

Sirius sighed and set the tub down by the counter. “I’ll go get the hoover. Don’t forget to double bag the glass shards!”

“Yes, Mum.”

Regulus watched Sirius clean up the shards with a brooding sort of expression on his face. It suited him, in the sad way it also suited Sirius. It was like their faces were meant for it — the legendary Black family brow, bred for centuries to bear the weight of all imagined and unimagined sorrows.

“What’s got you so mopey tonight?” Sirius said as he brought the tea mugs to the sink.

“You and Lupin were sounding… I mean, are you always that intense with each other?”

Sirius stared determinedly down at the sink, letting his hair cover his heated cheeks. “What do you mean intense?”

“You sounded like you were seconds away from shagging on the floor,” Regulus said. “I mean,  _ really _ , Sirius. He isn’t  _ that _ cute.”

Sirius, who was personally of the opinion that Remus was the handsomest man in England, or possibly the world, rolled his eyes. “We can’t all date washed-out sunburnt rugby rejects.”

There was a pregnant pause as Sirius waited to see if Regulus would take the bait — which Sirius shouldn’t have even laid out. Old habits, all that.

Regulus didn’t. “You really like him, then?”

“I do.”

Regulus sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

_ Too late _ . “I’m a big boy, Reg. I can take care of myself.”

“Mmmm,” Regulus sighed. “Not anything I can do, then.” He walked towards the door, then stopped. “I am sorry for what I said last time. It was unacceptable and I knew it was even as I said it.”

Sirius gave him a weak smile. “I know. I know you didn’t mean it… or at least, if you did, you knew it was a shit thing to say,” he let out a little breath through his nose as he set the last mug on the rack to dry. “And it’s not like you were wrong.”

Regulus didn’t say anything.

“Oh!” Sirius stopped him, remembering the perfect way to ensure that wasn’t the note their conversation ended on. “Also, I got an extra shipment of glow in the dark condoms by mistake. The company didn’t want them back and they don’t move very fast. I’ll grab you a few boxes. I know they’re ridiculous but the quality is still good and there’s no point letting them expire.”

Regulus held up a hand. “Thanks, but Flynn and I actually stopped using condoms a few months ago.”

Sirius blinked. “Oh.”

“Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” Sirius said, voice soft. He heard the bell clank against the door and he went to relock it, catching his reflection in the dark glass. “Fuck,” he whispered to his reflection. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on names: As I am American (note the spelling and constant phraseology errors) and not particularly interested in dedicating much time to researching particular universities and the communities surrounding them, I decided to set this story in a fictional college town somewhere in England. I also decided not to give it a name. Hence the ____shire in the graveyard scene. If it works for Jane Austen, it's good enough for me.


	6. Fireball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for shenanigans, cinnamon whiskey, somewhat unrealistic smut, and fanfiction tropes.

“Do you think elephants or giraffes? Maybe both?” James looked between the two grow suits.

“Harry strikes me as more of a giraffe man,” Sirius said, flipping through a small rack of plush little hat and mitten sets. “Aw, this one has bunny ears.” He held it up for James’s approval.

“That is adorable,” James said, stroking Harry’s head. His son was strapped to his chest, sleeping the shopping trip away. “Lily’s mum bought him one that looks like a lion.”

“What is it with baby things and the Savannah theme?”

“I could get him this one,” James said, picking another piece from the rack. “It looks like a space suit.”

“Omigodomigod,” Sirius lunged down to a lower rack and plucked the best thing he’d ever seen from it. “Look at this jacket! It’s just like mine! We’d match!”

“Harry won’t be that size for six months at least, Pads,” James said with an amused glint in his eyes.

Sirius looked at the miniature leather jacket. “Then it’s an investment piece. How old does he need to be before I can buy him a motorbike?”

James laughed. “At least three.”

“Good. I can get one custom made by then.”

“I did not hear about this and will be  _ very  _ surprised on his birthday.”

“Well, that’s a given. And by that metric, I figure I can start taking out for drinks when he’s six, and I’ll start introducing him to girls when he’s eight.”

“Girls? Very heteronormative of you.”

“Oh, look over here, Daddy’s  _ woke _ .”

“Never call me Daddy again.”

“Fine, I’ll start introducing him to  _ boys _ when he’s eight. That satisfy your politically correct childrearing guru?”

“Eh, might satisfy Harry. Lily craved bacon all the time when she was pregnant with him. According to her favorite blogger, that means he’ll be bisexual.”

“Wait, really?”

“No not really. She  _ was  _ craving sausage a lot, though.”

“Well I guess that means I should go piss on a stick, because I’m  _ always _ craving sausage.”

“So how  _ is _ Remus?”

“Fuck off.”

“Sample any sausage recently? Kielbasa? Bratwurst?  _ Chorizo _ ?”

“Not unless you consider silicone a food group.”

“Tough luck, mate.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Sirius said, being not fine. “Besides, I have other stuff on my mind. It’s part of why I asked to come out to the shops with you.”

“You didn’t just want to help me decide between miniature trainers and miniature boots?”

“I mean, that was part of it.” He eyed the faux baby Doc Martens in James’s basket. “Those are beautiful.”

“My son is already cooler than me,” James said, tossing the little tuft of black hair sticking out beyond the upper lip of Harry’s carrier.

“You say that like it’s hard.”

James ignored that. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“I’m 80% sure Reg’s boyfriend is cheating on him.” Sirius explained the situation — the condoms when he was buying nappies — 

“Magnums,” James snorted.  
— and what Regulus had said a few days ago.

“You should tell him,” James said as they went to pay for Harry’s new clothing. “If they aren’t using protection, and Flynn is sleeping around, he could get sick.”

“You’re right,” Sirius said. The thought had been nagging him for a while. “But I could still be wrong. And Regulus always gets angry when I bring Flynn up. There’s something about their relationship… I don’t know what it is, but Flynn’s really got his claws in him. He gets distressed whenever I speak against him.”

“It’s not like making your brother distressed has ever stopped you before.” James said. “Why stop now?”

“Maybe I’m becoming cowardly in my old age. I don’t know. I want more definitive proof first.”

“How much more definitive do you need?” James asked as they left the shop and wandered out into the bright, wide space of the shopping center. “I doubt he was buying them to make balloon animals.”

“He could have been buying them for someone else, or something. I don’t know. It’s circumstantial evidence at best.”

“So what? You’re gonna follow him around with a camera and take pictures of him doing it with strangers?”

Sirius shuddered at the thought of Flynn’s flat, undoubtedly freckly ass. Not that there was anything wrong with freckles in the ass region. Remus had a handful of ass freckles, and they were magnificent. Sirius figured the ones on Flynn’s would be condescending, somehow. If he drew a line across them they’d probably look like stock projections. “No.”

“So what then?” He waved at Lily, who’d been sitting at a cafe table outside her salon.

“I don’t know.”

“Brilliant plan.”

Sirius sighed. Maybe he’d speak with Remus about it.

-/-

“Does the cover have to be so  _ orange _ ?” Tonks asked, holding the book out, her face twisted in disgust.

“It’s… eye catching,” Sirius said, counting the number of copies and comparing them with the number on the invoice.

“If we make a full display of it,” Tonks said, “it’ll be eye-killing.”

Sirius nodded. “Maybe just pile them up and prop one on a stand? We’ll fill the rest of the table with flowers or maybe some relevant products.”

“Relevant like what? The book’s about erectile dysfunction.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius said, glancing around the shop. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve got two hours.”

The door opened, and Chelsea burst into the room, her arms loaded up with bags. “Afternoon, lovelies. I see you’ve got the book ready. Do you need help setting up the table?”

“Tonks is on it, right?”

“Tonks is on it,” Tonks said, heading towards the back room.

Chelsea set her bags down on the floor, shaking out her arms. The bangles on her wrist jingled like bells. “It was so good of you to offer to house Ben’s book signing,” Chelsea said as she started unloading… whatever it was she’d brought.

Sirius had offered to host at Chelsea’s persistent suggestion.

Ben was, as far as Sirius could tell, a member of Chelsea’s  _ circle _ . “When will the author be here? I’d like a moment to talk to him before customers arrive so he’ll know how everything works.”

“He should be along in a few minutes,” Chelsea said, opening another bag, which seemed to contain snacks. “Crisp?” she said, holding out an open bag.

Sirius took a few. “So how’s life in the circle?”

“You make it sound like a cult,” Chelsea laughed, pulling out a massive file stuffed with paper. “It’s just a network of lovely people I have pulled together from…”

“Diverse communities to explore sensuality in a safe space,” Sirius finished. He knew the pitch. “What’s that?”

“Flyers,” Chelsea said. “Just got them printed. I was wondering if you’d be willing to post one of them? One of my friends is starting a new book club. It’s actually based out of the university, one of the professors there is sponsoring it. It’s focused on examining LGBT history through fictional texts.”

“Alright,” Sirius said, “I’ll post it.” He took one of the flyers, glancing over the contents. Then his heart leaped to his throat. “Professor R. J. Lupin?”

“Of the history department,” Chelsea said, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you know him?”

“A little. He’s not… he’s not a member of your circle is he?”

“No, love,” Chelsea laughed. “Pity, that. Though I find I’ve been spending most of my sexual energy on my new partner. The one I was telling you about last time? He’s insatiable.”

“God,” Sirius scoffed, “what does it take for  _ you _ to call someone insatiable?”

“A lot,” Chelsea admitted with a little laugh. “So how do you know Remus?”

“Uh… he runs my DND campaign.”

“Oh nice!” Chelsea said, replacing the folder in her bag. “I’ve always meant to get into that game, but I never have the time. Say hi to him for me next time you meet.”

“Where do you want this?” Tonks said, waddling over with the old, oversized folding table they used for signings.

“Over there, Dora,” Sirius said, going to help her.

“Thanks,” Tonks said as she rolled her shoulders. She re-adjusted her shirt and straightened her nametag.

“I still don’t know why you opted to put your last name on your tag, Dora,” Chelsea said. “You have such a pretty name.”

Tonks wrinkled her nose. “Don’t much care for it, to be honest.”

“Also,” Sirius said, “no way in hell am I making a twenty year old woman wander around a sex shop wearing a tag that says  _ Nymphadora _ .”

Chelsea cocked her head in acknowledgement. “Fair enough.”

The door opened and Chelsea’s face lighted up. “Ben!”

Ben was a forty-something man with greying temples and a nose ring. He greeted Sirius with a hug and offered Tonks a hard candy. Sirius explained how to ask customers to bring their books to the till so they could pay for him, then he had to explain that they had to pay for them, and then he had to explain  _ why _ they had to pay for them.

So Ben was taking up a lot of Sirius’s attention. So much so that a few hours passed before he spoke to Chelsea again, and even then it was just a distracted conversation about a spare box of Sharpies. But he did catch one thing — 

As they were searching a drawer for spare markers, Chelsea mentioned something else about her new lover. “He works at the hospital, you know? Agh, he looks so gorgeous in his scrubs. He fills them so well. He used to play rugby. Back in uni.”

-/-

It was technically,  _ technically _ possible that it wasn’t him.

“You walk down the long corridor. The air is heavy with mildew and damp. Every breath feels like a struggle.”

“Is everything visibly slimy?” Dorcas asked.

“Yes,” Remus said, “there’s a film of something vaguely purplish on the floor. At the end of the corridor, there’s a fork in the hallway. Do you go right or left?”

The hospital employed tons of people and besides, Flynn had never said he played rugby, and people who used to play rugby were, in Sirius’s experience, rarely more than four or five sentences away from mentioning it in any given conversation.

“Sirius, thoughts?”

“Uh, left.”

And besides, he never saw him wear a rugby shirt. Surely he’d wear one?  
He ruminated on the issue as they went down the stairwell, through the room full of mysterious vials, and down the mine shaft. He was still thinking about it as they fought their way through a room of goblins and came to the room with the spellbook they’d been hunting for.

They were fighting a… thing… Sirius forgot its name, with eyes and… well, with eyes. Sirius was still trying to convince himself Flynn never played rugby.

“Sirius, what do you do?”

“I uh…” he looked down at the thing. He needed to talk to Remus. But how would he bring this up? All this shit? Digging up all those bad memories? He’d need an excuse to talk to him, another thing to…

“I charge it.”

Remus blinked. “You… charge the beholder?”

“Sirius, we’re running away,” Frank said, frowning. “That thing’s too powerful for us, we need backup, and a better plan, and more than five hp.” He gave Sirius’s sheet a pointed look.

“I feel like Kenderic wouldn’t know that,” Sirius said. He shrugged. “I charge.”

-/-

Remus was wearing a light brown checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the portion of Sirius’s mind that wasn’t dedicated to figuring out what the hell the difference between the Pact of the Chain and the Pact of the of the Tome was was dedicated to pondering that.

“Warlocks offer tons of options for customizability,” Remus said, flipping through the pages of the book, “there’s lots of ways you can get creative with it.”

They were sitting at Remus’s kitchen table, an old, slightly chipped teapot steaming between them. Moony was resting his chin on Sirius’s lap. Sirius was gnawing at the end of his pencil, trying to figure out how to introduce the topics… any of the topics.

“Kendall feels like she would be more of a bookish type,” Sirius said. “And I like all these nifty powers.”

“Yeah,” Remus laughed, “that’s how I’d describe warlock powers. Nifty.”

“So I can see in the dark and also read multiple languages and also speak in people’s minds?”

“Yeah, but you lose your soul.”

“Small price to pay. So, do you know someone named Chelsea?”

Remus frowned, setting down his tea cup. “Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“Blonde-ish hair? Usually wearing Louboutins? Has a small harem?”

“I wouldn’t call it small. How do you know Chelsea?”

“I’m the supplier for all the local sex fiends, remember?”

Remus blushed. “Vividly.”

That brought to mind another question. Sirius decided to push his luck.

“I always did wonder… the dildo you bought at my shop that time? It’s none of my business, but… was it for you? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Remus’s blush deepened, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “It was, yeah. I was… I don’t usually bottom, but I’ve been with a few men who… well, they said I was too large. And so I decided I’d… I don’t know, practice a bit? So I went to go buy something I figured was around my size and see if I could handle it. Seemed only fair at the time.”

Sirius bit back a smile. Remus, it seemed, had fallen into the trap most men tended to fall into. He’d overshot. Blessed as he was by nature, and idealized as Sirius’s recollections of his precise dimensions admittedly probably were, the purple monster he’d bought all those weeks ago was still definitely bigger than him.

“Whatshisname hasn’t been complaining, has he?”

Remus frowned and for a moment Sirius was afraid he’d overstepped. “Who?”

“Whoever that bloke was you were dating a while back?”

“Oh,” Remus said. “I’m not dating him anymore. I was never really  _ dating _ him anyway, we went out for drinks maybe twice. He was nice enough but,” Remus shrugged. “Didn’t really do it for me, you know?”

“I know,” Sirius said, sipping his tea, casually smiling, soul vibrating at a higher frequency.

“So why were you asking me about Chelsea?” Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged, face warm. “She mentioned she knew you. I’m trying to connect dots.”

Remus smiled. “She’s a coordinator at the university. She runs the Woman’s Resource Center. She has a magical gaydar. I think she knows every queer faculty member on campus.”

“Did she meet you while you were still dating Flynn?”

Remus blanched. “What?”

“I…”  _ Fuck it. _ “Look, I think Flynn’s cheating on my brother.”

“That’s probably a given,” Remus said, nodding reasonably.

“And I think he might be cheating on him with Chelsea.”

“That’s… possible. Yeah,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s possible. Why do you think that, though?”

Sirius explained the condoms, the comments. 

“He did use to play rugby,” Remus confirmed. “He had a shirt but it doesn’t fit anymore. He lifts… a lot. Have you talked to Regulus about it?”

“No,” Sirius admitted. “I want to be sure of it before I do. But I’m concerned. Reg told me they don’t use condoms anymore. What if he gets him sick?”

Remus considered that, then refilled their tea cups. “I know this likely won’t sound convincing to you, but you probably don’t need to worry too much about  _ that _ . Flynn’s an asshole, but he’s not an idiot. He’s a nurse, after all. When I found out he’d been cheating on me, he told me he always used a condom with other people… we weren’t so cautious,” Remus looked down, as if embarrassed by that. “And he got tested all the time. He told me it was a requirement where he worked, because they treated HIV patients and exposure to the virus was a possibility, but it always sounded like bullshit to me.”

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“But yeah, honestly I think Flynn’s too paranoid to not use protection with multiple people. But I still get why you’re concerned. You have a pretty good case. At least good enough that Reg might want to re-introduce condoms.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius sipped his tea. “I guess. He’s like me, he doesn’t like being told what to do. And I… I don’t know. If I don’t have enough proof, he’ll just think I’m being paranoid and vindictive. He knows how much I hate the man.”

“What else can you do?” Remus asked. “What, are you going to sneak into his apartment and film him having sex with other people?”

“No,” Sirius said, “God,” he shuddered. “I never want to see that man naked.”

Remus snorted. “It’s not bad. But I get your point. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he is cheating on Regulus. But I’m not sure he’d take my word for it. Now, what do you want your patron to be?”

-/-

“So… I always wondered this… what did they  _ call each other _ ?” Tonks whispered the end of the sentence like she thought it was scandalous.

“Hmmm?” Regulus asked, leaning over his… whatever it was. It looked green. “What was that?”

The pub was getting louder around them. Tonks’s suggestion that they all go out before Regulus had to fly to Newcastle for a few weeks to help his firm set up its northern office had seemed like a horrible idea before, but now he was starting to warm to it. He was maybe two more drinks away from having the courage to ask Regulus about Flynn.

“Your parents,” Tonks said, stirring her drink with its black straw, “I have a hard time imagining them calling each other by name, or  _ love  _ or  _ darling _ or something like that. How did they address each other?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Sirius said, combing through his memories and trying to pick apart a time when he’d overheard his parents addressing one another directly. “I think… I don’t know. They always seemed to be able to sense when the other was speaking to them.”

“I think I heard  _ dear _ or  _ darling _ a few times,” Regulus said. “They weren’t completely heartless, you know.” He shifted in his seat.

“Mmmm,” Tonks hummed. “Guess it’s just easy to picture everything very… I don’t know. I think of dark windows and lots of velvet. And you can hear all the clocks ticking and…”

“We had a PlayStation,” Regulus laughed. “And Dad usually had music on.”

“Opera?” Tonks asked, hopeful.

“Mostly the Stones, maybe the Doors. Devil’s music, you know. I think that’s part of the reason why he liked it.” He twirled his whiskey in its glass. “It wasn’t all horrible,” he admitted. “And they’re whole-ass people, Tonks. They aren’t cardboard cutouts or actors playing a role. They’re racist, homophobic pieces of shit, but I think you’ll find the most disturbing thing  _ about  _ racist, homophobic pieces of shit is just how human they are. Everyone wants them to be these unspeakable monsters, but they’re just as human as you or I. Just as capable of love, just as certain they’re right.”

Tonks blinked. “You should apply for a philosophy professorship, Sirius.”

Sirius shoved her shoulder. “It’s true! You know I’m right.”

“Alright, alright,” Tonks held her hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. You just… I don’t know. You never have much good to say about them. And neither do Mum and Dad.”

“There isn’t a lot,” Sirius agreed. “They’re pretty fucked up people.”

“But they loved us. Still do, I think,” Regulus said, studying the table. “I think we broke their hearts when we came out.”

“Which is…”

“Fucked up, I know,” Sirius said, jumping in. The warmth from the whiskey was gone. “But you’ve got to understand, we didn’t grow up with sweet, loving, liberal parents who let us dye our hair and work in sex shops and run around topless at pride. We grew up with people who probably still have nightmares about us burning in hell. It’s fucked up, but you’ve got to have  _ empathy _ .” He hit the table with his last word, and the ice in their glasses clanked. Maybe he was warmer than he thought.

“When was the last time you talked to them?” Tonks asked. 

“It’s been years,” Sirius said, taking another drink.

“I talked to Mum on the phone a few months ago,” Regulus told the table, face drawn as that of a man admitting he’d killed someone.

“Wait,” Sirius blinked. “What? Why?”

“She’s my mother?”

“She  _ wants _ to talk to you? Wait,” Sirius shook his head. “That came out wrong.”

“One of our aunts died. Aunt Violetta Remember? I told you? I saw a cousin post about it on Facebook and I called her to make sure she was alright. She was cold and terse and the conversation lasted maybe three minutes. She told me she was still praying for us, then she hung up. I think she felt very daring doing that.”

Sirius snorted, but there was still something uncertain churning in his stomach. Maybe whiskey. Hopefully whiskey.

“Do you think you’ll ever talk to them again in person?”

“I think if I ever see my father again, it’ll be because he chose to have an open casket funeral,” Sirius muttered.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll be invited to the funeral,” Regulus said, not bothering to hide his sadness at the thought.

“We’re doing a great job with the fun, cousin’s bonding night, aren’t we?” Tonks asked, looking between the two men.

“We don’t talk about them often,” Sirius admitted. “Now you know why.”

Regulus traced the outline of a knot in the pub’s table with his thumbnail. “I think I heard Mum call Dad  _ babe _ once.”

Sirius laughed. “Bullshit.”

“I did!” Regulus said, looking up and grinning. “It was when he was in France, remember? And he called each night? She was talking to him after we’d said our bit, and she wandered into the other room. I don’t think she thought we could hear her. She ended it with, ‘thanks for calling, babe. Love you,’ then she hung up. Swear to God, or whatever.” He placed his hand on his heart to show them he meant it, and reached for his drink with the other.

“I can’t even imagine her saying that,” Tonks said, eyes unfocused.

“I mean, do you usually imagine her with red eyes and talons?” Sirius asked.

“And snakes for hair.”

“Babe,” Sirius whispered. “God. Almost makes you think that they could have had  _ sex _ or something.”

Regulus laughed. “How do you think we happened?”

“They prayed really hard,” Sirius said. “Isn’t that where babies come from? Praying hard?”

“According to some of Flynn’s patients, maybe. He had a girl in the other day who thought you couldn’t get pregnant if you had sex in the dark.”

Tonks laughed, and kicked Sirius under the table so he’d do the same. 

He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. Regulus would be gone for a while. Maybe he’d come up with something by then.

-/-

“Sirius,” Frank said, shifting in his seat and swirling his drink in its glass, “that’s a dumbass maneuver. Don’t do it.”

“But Kendall totally would,” Sirius said, leaning forward and moving a bit further than he’d intended. He sat back in his chair and tossed back the shot Marlene had poured for him.

She and Dorcas had been cleaning out their refrigerator when they discovered an old bottle of Fireball Whiskey at the back of the freezer. They’d brought it to session and demanded everyone help them kill the thing.

Sirius was beginning to think he’d overindulged.

“Do all your characters have a death wish?” Dorcas asked, a silly little grin on her lips. “I’m starting to think this is some Freudian thing.”

“Yeah,” Alice giggled. “The Gelatinous Cube’s a metaphor for his mother.”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “I charge.”

“You charge,” Remus confirmed with an earnest nod, taking a sip of his glass. “Roll for your attack.”

He did, cross referencing with his new character sheet. “Eighteen.”

“Roll damage.”

“Six?”

“How do we have so much of this left?” Marlene asked, holding up the bottle and looking at it accusingly.

“Dunno,” Alice said, taking the bottle and refilling her shot glass. “Maybe it refills on its own.”

“Remus?”

“Mmm?” Remus glanced up from behind his screen, where he undoubtedly was calculating just how fucked Sirius’s character was.

“How much does a never-ending bottle of whiskey cost in DND world?”

“Next time you go to a magic shop, you can find out,” he replied breezily, which Sirius figured meant he didn’t yet know. “Alright, is that the end of your turn?”

“I think so, yeah,” Sirius said, unconcerned and pouring yet another shot of Fireball.

“Alright, Sirius, make a dexterity save.”

He did. “Six. Is that enough?”

It was not enough. And neither were the three death saves he rolled after all the acid damage he took.

“I’m afraid,” Remus said, pouring himself another glass of Fireball, “that Kendall is no more.”

Marlene snorted and collapsed into Dorcas. “I shout, ‘Oh my god! You killed Kenny!’”

“And I say, ‘You Bastard!’” They convulsed with laughter.

“The cube seems unconcerned with your remarks, Kendall’s dead body suspended and slowly dissolving within its gelatinous...ness.”

“The little shit,” Alice said. “I shoot it.”

“Alright, make an attack roll.”

The poor cube didn’t stand a chance against the rest of the adventures, and soon the session was over.

“We need to finish this,” Marlene said as she poured the final round of shots, downing the last of the bottle with a triumphant-looking swig.

“Where did you even get this stuff?” Alice asked, wincing as it went down.

“Dunno,” Dorcas said with a shrug. “It was sort of always just there.”

“I didn’t know it was legal to buy this over the age of 25,” Sirius quipped.

“And yet you seemed to have no problem drinking it,” Marlene sniffed.

“But I didn’t inhale,” Sirius said before taking his last shot.

Eventually, the things were put away, the ubers were called, the babysitters were texted and promised 20% more, and it was just Sirius and Remus.

Remus had invited him to stay after to “talk about character ideas.”

Sirius smiled. Marlene had snorted.

Alice and Frank exchanged knowing looks.

Sirius was fairly sure he was getting laid that night. Maybe that was the Fireball talking. Fireball seemed like the type of drink that talked loudly.

He helped Remus tidy up and put out Moony’s dinner. They decided they were hungry. They decided to order pizza.

They decided to open that bottle of wine Remus said had been sitting around in his cupboard for months. 

Remus seemed almost… manic, was the best word Sirius could come up with. There was a nervous energy to the air, like they were teenagers and someone would walk in at any moment. There were a few stretches of silence when Sirius considered doing the old  _ glance at the lips, lean in real close, cue the violin music _ .

But he didn’t.

He was feeling shy.

Also he wasn’t sure his first — well second first — kiss with Remus should be had when he was so inebriated he couldn’t drive and the back of his throat tasted like cinnamon gum’s alcoholic uncle.

But he wouldn’t stop it if it happened.

Which it didn’t.

The pizza arrived and they  _ destroyed it _ , so fast Moony didn’t even have time to properly establish an angle of approach for begging.

“So I jumped over the fence, ran into the woods, and I was halfway to the road by the time I realized I’d forgotten my pants.”

“Wait,” Remus took another swig from the wine bottle — they’d forgone glasses and were passing the thing back and forth like utter savages. Sirius’s mother would have a heart attack. “Wait, wait, wait, how could you not notice that while running? What about the chaffing?”

“We aren’t all packing such ridiculous packages that a quick sprint to the road would cause chaffing.”

Remus blushed, which was beautiful. “Oh.”

Sirius belched, which was cinnamon-y. “So I ran down the road…”

“Is it actually ridiculous?” Remus asked, picking up a stray bit of olive and popping it in his mouth.

“What?”

“My… you know,” he gestured towards his crotch. “It can’t be  _ that _ big. I’m sure you’ve seen bigger.”

Sirius had, but only technically, and  _ that  _ particular member was lacking that certain…  _ je ne sais quoi _ . “Remus, you have the best cock I’ve ever seen, and I’m fairly sure I’ve seen most of them.”

Remus’s blush deepened. “That’s… c’mon, that can’t be true.” There was a little glint in his eye that suggested to Sirius that maybe he wanted that to be true.

“Remus, have you  _ seen _ that thing?”

“Once or twice,” Remus chuckled.

“It’s gorgeous! It’s the perfect size, and color, and the curve is,” he made a chef’s kiss kind of motion, and kept going, ignoring all sense, “and the proportions are so  _ elegant. _ ”

“ _ Elegant _ ?” Remus repeated, incredulous. “Has anyone  _ ever _ described a cock as  _ elegant _ ?”

“I just did.”

“I mean, aside from disgraced aristocrats full of kiddie booze?”

Sirius pressed his hand to his heart in mock distress. “Sir, I am a connoisseur of the highest order! I have tasted all that this cursed isle has to offer in the trouser department, and let me tell you, sir, I know quality when I see it!”

“Mmmhmm,” Remus rested his chin on his fist, cheeks still ablaze, but mouth smiling wryly. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Absolutely! Where’s a pen? Moony!” He addressed the dog, who’d been sniffing around the corners of the kitchen for spare crumbs. “Where do you keep the pens?”

Remus took another long drink from the bottle and handed it back to Sirius, who finished it off. The dregs of the wine hit his tongue and he winced.

“Flynn didn’t like it,” Remus murmured.

“Hmmm?”

“Flynn didn’t like it too much. Said it made him feel ‘inferior.’”

“Seriously?” Sirius asked, banging the empty wine bottle down on the counter like a gavel. “What an utter prick.”

Remus let out a single breathy laugh. “Won’t disagree with you there, but that’s not the first time I’d heard it. Generally, then men I’ve dated fall into two camps,” he held up two fingers, as if concerned he or Sirius would lose count. “Either they’re size queens, and couldn’t care less about my personality, dreams, and desires, or they like dating a professor because it makes them feel smart. Then once they actually date a professor, it makes them feel dumb, and dating a man who,” he scrunched up his face in thought, then nodded, “yeah, I’ve been bigger than all the men I’ve slept with… anyway, dating a professor makes them feel dumb, dating a man who’s… well…” he cleared his throat, “that makes them feel small. Not usually an issue, I don’t think, unless the size difference is immediately noticeable, which in my case it usually was.”

Sirius laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man say what you just said without even a hint of bragging.”

Remus shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ve got precisely two things in my favor, Sirius. I’ve got a doctorate and I have to buy XXL condoms online. We can’t all be gorgeous and posh and successful business owners and funny and smart and also really good in bed.”

Sirius lapped up that praise like a man who’d just discovered an oasis after days in a desert. He was seriously considering the ol’ lean-in. He’d ensure Remus could add ‘fantastic kisser’ to the list.

But Remus wasn’t done. He was still glaring at the counter. “But Flynn never had much use for my smarts or my bits. He doesn’t really like to top…”

God, Sirius didn’t need to know that.

“And he didn’t like all the work it took for him to get ready for me… so blowjobs it was… not that I really mind blowjobs,” Remus added, looking up at Sirius like he was concerned Sirius would be upset by that. “I just… well… they’re not as intimate, you know? And I know I’m a lot to take, but… no,” he sighed. “There is no but.”

Sirius giggled. “No butt at all.”

It took Remus a moment to get the joke, but then he laughed so hard he nearly fell down against the counter. Moony hurried over to see what was wrong, and Remus bent down to pet him. “Honestly towards the end, I think the only reason he didn’t dump me was because he wanted someone to take care of Moony. Wait,” he pulled a face. “Even after we broke up, he  _ still _ had me check in on Moony. The fucker had me come in during his long shifts and take the dog out. Not that I minded that, but still. And even when he and your brother went out of town, he had me come in to water the  _ fucking _ plants. No clue why I agreed to that.”

“Wait, what?” Sirius frowned. “When?”

“Last December, I think?” Remus squinted at the memory. “Yeah, just before Christmas. He and Regulus went to France, right?”

“Yeah, they did. But how could you get in? He said he changed the lock,” Sirius said.

“He what?” Remus cocked his head, and some of his shoulders seemed to move with it. “That’s bullshit.”

“That’s what he told Regulus.”

“Lying sack of…”

“We should test it.”

“What?”

“We should see if the key still works. His flat isn’t far from here. We could walk. Let’s go for a walk!” Sirius stood and the room spinned for a moment, but not too long. He righted himself and extended a hand out to Remus. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Lemme just…” Remus got up and stumbled into the other room. Sirius could hear his voice from down the hall. “I think I’ve got the key over… here!” He emerged, victorious. There was an adorable little smile on his face and a key clenched in his fist. “Let’s go!”

Flynn really did live nearby. The walk was short enough that they were no more sober when they walked up to the door than when they’d left Remus’s place.

“See?” Remus said, unlocking the door triumphantly. “It works. Now, let’s go home and…”

“Is that a  _ lava lamp _ ?” Sirius asked, pushing the door open.

“Sirius!” Remus hissed.

“What?” Sirius asked, looking around the cluttered, carpeted room, “he’s not here. His car wasn’t outside, and I think he works evenings.”

“He could come back at any moment.”

“We’ll say we were watering the plants.”

“ _ Sirius _ !”

“Regulus never invites me over,” Sirius said, thumbing through the stack of magazines on the table. “I’m curious.”

“Sirius, we should go!”

“Who even owns lava lamps anymore?” Sirius muttered to himself, watching as a purplish glob floated up to the top of the dumb thing. “Did he have this when you were together?”

“No,” Remus said, rolling his eyes, “that must have been an addition from your brother.”

“My brother has much better taste than that,” Sirius sniffed.

“He’s dating Flynn, isn’t he?”

“Touché.” Sirius wandered down the hall.

“Sirius,” Remus said, following him. “This has gone on far enough, we need to  _ leave _ .” There was an authority to his voice that Sirius hadn’t heard before. It made him want to bend over a desk and have Professor Lupin teach him a lesson.

“I just want to check one thing,” he said. “Then we can go.”

“What?”

Sirius found the bedroom at the end of the hall. He flicked the lights on and went straight for the bedside table. “I just want to see if the condoms he bought are here. If they decided to start using them again or… I don’t know. If they’re somewhere Regulus would see.”

He opened the drawer… standard fare, really. Some lube, a cock ring. The dildo he’d bought Regulus for Christmas last year… “Agh!”

“What?” Remus whispered, anxious. “What is it?”

“They need to clean this these things better. Now my hand’s sticky!”

“Gross. Are you done yet?”

“Not yet… there’s… well, there is an old box of condoms here, but it’s not the same brand. Probably just left over from before. Looks like my hypothesis is correct,” Sirius closed the door. “Flynn’s a cheating bastard.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” Remus said. “Can we go now?”

Sirius was going to reply, but then the flat’s front door opened.

Remus’s eyes shot open in alarm and he gave Sirius a  _ now what? _ look.

Feminine giggles and heavy footsteps were coming their way, and Sirius did the only thing he could think to do: he grabbed Remus and shoved him into the bedroom closet, hopped in, and closed the door after them.

Seconds later, Flynn and his company entered the room.

The sounds of falling clothing and loud kisses stopped.

“Huh,” Flynn’s voice was muffled through the door. “I don’t remember leaving the light on.”

“Mmmm… should I punish you for being so  _ naughty _ to the environment?”

Flynn laughed and Sirius felt his face go cold. He recognized that voice.

Chelsea told Flynn to get on the bed. The sounds of shuffling sheets and falling shoes followed. Sirius felt Remus shift behind him.

The closet was not designed to hold two grown men. Remus was pressed up against the clothing hanging from the rack, and a few fallen hangers were wedged between Sirius’s body and the wall. Their feet were balancing on the jumble of shoes on the closet floor. Sirius’s back was to Remus’s front, his hair was being bushed by Remus’s breath, and his ass was right up against Remus’s crotch.

Flynn, from the sounds of it, was being tied up.

“Have you been doing what I asked?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“You haven’t come all week?”

“No, mistress.”

“Good boy.”

_ Jesus fucking Christ. _

Remus shuffled behind him, one of the hangers falling to the closet floor as he did so.

They both tensed, but the couple outside seemed too preoccupied to notice the sound.

Preoccupied with an exchange full of  _ good boys _ and  _ punishment _ and  _ yes, mistress _ and a million other things that made Sirius want to empty the contents of his stomach onto Regulus’s old Chuck Taylors.

And that was all before she brought the paddle out.

At least, he was fairly sure it was a paddle. It didn’t sound like a cane or a flogger or a hand, but the door was muffling things. Thankfully.

Sirius had to wonder what it was Flynn had done to earn himself 28 strikes.

Precisely. She made him count.

Remus’s breath was warm, and getting faster. Sirius was trying to be as small and silent as possible, and found himself holding his breath so long his head started to feel light. The cramped space was so hot and Remus’s body was so solid. Sirius closed his eyes, willing it all to be over. 

The bed started creaking.

Sirius released a breath slowly, pressing back into Remus’s body.

Remus tried to draw away, but he wasn’t fast enough, Sirius felt what he was trying to hide.

Remus was hard.

Sirius pressed against him.

Remus let out a long breath, slow and quiet as it could be, moving through Sirius’s hair.

Sirius moved against Remus, and the other man’s hands went to his hips. Whether to hold him steady or pull him in closer, Sirius couldn’t quite tell. He just kept grinding.

After a moment, Remus started grinding back.

There was an easy, transgressive rhythm to the moment — the darkness of the closet, the bite of the alcohol on Remus’s breath, the give and take of their bodies. Remus’s fingers tightened on his hips, so hard it almost hurt, and Sirius let his head fall back against his chest. He pulled one of Remus’s hands to the front of his jeans, to the button holding them closed.

Remus undid it and slid his hand down, down, down, long fingers wrapping around him. Sirius bit back his sigh. 

Remus’s hands were dry and he was drunk and Sirius was drunk and Flynn was right outside cheating on his brother and he was standing on an old loafer and he had to pee, but when he’d look back at that moment later, he’d still consider it one of his top five ever handjobs.

He hissed as Remus’s calloused hand tightened around him, but he didn’t care. He was so far gone and so horny and Remus’s length was pressing against his ass so perfectly and…

Remus shuddered behind him as he came, biting down on Sirius’s shoulder and groaning quietly, almost inaudible over the loud coupling on the other side of the door. 

That really shouldn’t have done it for him, but Sirius followed right along. He tried to bring a hand up to prevent any sort of mess, but he was fairly sure Regulus would discover a suspicious stain on the back of one of his shirts in a few days.

He and Remus leaned against each other, breathing raggedly. Sirius tucked himself away.

Outside, Chelsea and Flynn were still going at it.

Inside, Remus’s head ducked down, and his lips somehow managed to find Sirius’s, even in the dark and the haze from the whiskey and the wine.

And the… well.

He tasted like cinnamon. Cinnamon was Sirius’s new favorite flavor.

He wrapped his arms around Remus’s neck and they fell further into the soft wall of shirts, a few more hangers fell to the ground and he didn’t care. The shoes shuffled under their feet and he didn’t care. His lips were against Remus’s for the first time in what felt like an ice age, everything else was an inconsequential detail.

In fact, he was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice the door to the closet had been opened until they were both tumbling to the ground.

Remus and Sirius scrambled up.

Flynn was completely naked, freckly as Sirius had suspected, and standing with his mouth agape. 

Movie logic dictated that Chelsea should have been pulling a sheet or blanket or something over her chest, but instead she was just blinking at them and wearing nothing but a strap-on.

“What — what — what the  _ fuck are you doing here _ ?” Flynn shouted, tugging on a discarded pair of pants and glaring at the two of them in absolute disbelief.

Remus’s eyes were as wide a deer about to be mowed down by a car, but Sirius was already on the offensive. “You’re cheating on my brother!”

“You’re trespassing in my flat!”

“If you don’t tell Regulus within 24 hours, I will!”

“If you don’t clear out, I’ll call the police!”

“Wait,” Chelsea said from the bed, standing up and walking over with her hands in a waving, peace-making sort of gesture. The strap-on bobbed with her movements. It was very hard not to look at it. “Wait, wait, wait. Everyone calm down. Sirius, what’s going on?”

“Why are you asking—” Flynn started.

But she cut him off with a look. “Quiet, Flynn. You’ll get your turn.”

“Yes, mis—” Flynn coughed. He reddened and Sirius felt smug for a moment, but then he saw the way Chelsea was looking at him.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

“I was looking for proof he was cheating on my brother, and I found more than I wanted to,” Sirius said. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but Regulus has a right to know.”

Chelsea looked over at Flynn. “You have a boyfriend.”

Flynn glared at the floor. “Yes.”

“And he is unaware of our agreement?”

“He…” Flynn started.

“Yes or no, Flynn,” Chelsea said, impatient.

Flynn diffused an angry breath. “Yes.”

“Then we’re done here,” Chelsea said, undoing the harness and reaching for her clothes. “I’m no one’s homewrecker, Flynn. I’m very disappointed in you.”

“Disa—” he sputtered. “These two  _ broke into my flat! _ I suppose you let him in, right Remus?”

Remus, who’d been still as a statue the entire time, turned beet red. “I… we…”

“Give me my key!” Flynn demanded.

Remus handed him the key, averting his eyes from Flynn and Sirius and God and everyone.

“I  _ will _ be pressing charges.”

Sirius was about to open his mouth, then Chelsea cut in. “No, you won’t. Remus had a key. And you seemed to know he had a key. You don’t have a great case, and what? You’re going to get your boyfriend’s brother locked up? No, Flynn. You’re going to call your boyfriend like a good boy and tell him everything and pray to God that he’ll still have you. And if you omit anything, I’ll know.” 

Sirius made a mental note to buy Chelsea a Sexy Judge costume in gratitude. She’d look great with a wig.

“You two…” she said.

“Will leave,” Sirius finished. “It was nice seeing you Flynn. Let my brother know that my sofa is available any time!”

“Fuck off,” Flynn hissed.

“C’mon, Remus,” Sirius said, tugging on Remus’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Remus started to follow him out, but then Flynn spoke up again. “I  _ did  _ warn your brother he was crazy, Black. You should have listened to me.”

“Shut up,” Sirius said, hand on the small of Remus’s back.

“Just saying,” Flynn said.

Remus and Sirius marched down the hall and out the door. The night air felt bracing, a relief and an admonishment all in one.

They didn’t exchange a word as they trudged down the street back to Remus’s house.

Once they made it to the door, Remus turned around sharply, staring at the ground. “I’m…” he cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry, but I think I need to be alone right now.” He was shaking, and Sirius wanted to hug him, but held back. “I’ll go get your things. One moment.” He disappeared into the house and returned a moment later with a canvas bag with a logo Sirius didn’t recognize. His folder and  _ Player’s Handbook _ were jutting out of the top. “Are you good to drive?”

Sirius nodded, though that was a lie. He’d have to call a cab. 

“Alright,” Remus said, still not looking at him. “I’ll… I’ll see you around, okay?”

“I…” he deflated. “Okay.”

Remus made eye contact enough to give him a weak smile, then closed the door. Sirius heard the lock click, and stared at it dumbly for a moment or two. A cold breeze rolled through, and he didn’t care what the calendar said, winter clearly wasn’t over.


	7. Zone of Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute bitch to get out. It's been a hell of a month.
> 
> Warnings for excessive use of texting as a plot device.

_Read Tuesday 11:38am_

Sirius sighed and closed the app on his phone, slipping it into his pocket. 

“Morning!” Tonks called as she walked in, the bell on the door clanging with her entrance.

“Hey,” Sirius said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You look like shit,” Tonks said. “Still no reply from Regulus?”

“No.”

“Mmmm,” she bit her lip. “Well, Mum’s picking him up from the train station this afternoon, so I’ll let you know how he’s looking.”

“What?” Sirius looked up. “He wasn’t due back for nearly a week!”

“Apparently he cut it short,” she said with a shrug. “After he and Flynn broke up…”

“They broke up?!”

“Yup,” Tonks popped the _p_. “Apparently Flynn wasn’t able to talk his way out of everything. So Regulus is temporarily homeless, which means he now has the futon in Dad’s study.”

“And he didn’t feel the need to tell me any of this.”

“Apparently not,” Tonks said, leaning against the counter, seemingly unconcerned, which he supposed was warranted. It wasn’t like fights between the Brothers Black were rare.

Sirius glared out into his shop, thankfully still empty. “None of this went the way I wanted it to.”

“Well,” Tonks said, “except the whole dumping Flynn thing.”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius smiled despite himself, “that’s a national holiday now.”

Tonks gave him a kind little smile, but her face fell back into the gentle worry it’d been wearing for most of the last week. “And still no word from Remus?”

“Not since two nights ago,” Sirius said.

“Hmmm,” Tonks hummed. For a moment, Sirius thought she was going to say something else, but she didn’t.

Sirius compulsively checked and re-checked his phone every free moment he got. Finally, around three, he got a text from Regulus.

**Safe at Andromeda’s. Don’t want to talk.**

-/-

“What do you think of that one?” Sirius held his godson up so he could grab the budding branch in his meaty little paw. 

“Aaaah,” Harry observed, feeling the way the little knobby buds formed along the thin new growth.

“In a few weeks, that’ll be a leaf. Do you remember leaves? The last time they were around, you were half the size you are now.”

Harry yanked on the twig and it detached from the branch. He let out a delighted yelp and started batting the stick around, hitting Sirius more than once.

“Jesus,” he muttered, “could hire you out as a landscaper, couldn’t I?”

Harry giggled, nearly poking him in the eye.

“Alright,” Sirius said, setting Harry down on the wet moss and rubbing the small scratch on his face. “Down you get.”

Harry was utterly entranced with his stick, and was banging it against the corner of the marker of the final resting place of Enolia Spiggett, 1845-1921.

Maybe it was a bit strange to take a baby to a graveyard, but Sirius was on Harry duty that day and he’d wanted to go for a walk.

The graveyard was quiet and out of the way, and he needed air.

Harry got bored of his stick and hauled himself up by the grave. Sirius leaned against the wall and watched with a proud little grin as Harry wandered from stone to stone.

“You know, Harry, not too long ago I came here with someone very important to me.”

Harry, who was supporting himself with the help of Arthur O’Hara, 1822-1842, blinked over at him. His eyes were exactly the same color as Lily’s, that bright, hopeful green that comes at the start of spring, when all the leaves are new. He wondered if Harry’d have to start wearing glasses like his father.

He continued. “I’m scared to fuck things up with him — pardon my French — but I’m also scared to let it all go. I can feel him slipping through my fingers. And I think… I think if I don’t do something, I’ll never forgive myself, you know?”

Harry giggled and toddled over to Janice Owens, 1855-1902. 

“But I’d also never forgive myself if I make him uncomfortable or unhappy. I don’t know, Harry. What’s the right thing to do? I don’t know how to be the right person for him right now. Maybe I’ll never be the right person. Maybe I’m just fated to regret all of this. Everything with him, everything with Regulus.”

Harry had long since lost interest, but Sirius wasn’t done talking to him. He sat by Norman Oates, 1843-1865 and watched as Harry ran his tiny little finger along the letters carved into the grave.

“You’ll be reading in a few years, won’t you?” he murmured. “And shortly after, you’ll be grown. You’ll be learning lessons and breaking hearts and being beaten up by life, like the rest of us.” He paused, looking out over the rest of the graveyard. Dappled bits of sunlight made the dew on the moss glisten and he could catch flashes of red and blue and silver between the budding branches and shrubbery as cars passed by. Crisp air blew through, and he tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear to keep it from his eyes as he looked back over at his godson. “I wonder how old you’ll be when the first thing you regret happens. I wonder what you’ll remember. You certainly won’t remember this conversation.”

Harry looked over at him, and for a moment he allowed himself to fancy that the boy got his meaning. “If I’m a good godfather, I’ll be there to give you advice. Maybe one day you’ll ask me for love advice. I wonder if I’ll ever be in a position to give it.”

Harry blinked at him, his little face grave for a moment. His brow furrowed, and Sirius felt concerned. What had he said?

“My father wasn’t one for conversations like these,” Sirius continued, a little unsteady. “He gave me an awkward, quick talk about what men and women do once they’re married, and that was that. You lucked out,” he glanced over at Harry, “your father is the best man I’ve ever known. I’d give anything for just a bit of his integrity.”

Harry tripped over a root on his way to investigate the grave of Eveyln Jameson, 1899-1913, and for a moment Sirius winced, anticipating tears, but Harry just hobbled up again and went on his merry way. 

Sirius smiled at him. “What do I do Harry? No one taught me how to do this. Any of this.”

Harry clambered onto the foot of a marble grave and ran his fingers along an engraving of a flower. A patch of sunlight caught his dark hair and for a moment, it almost looked a little red.

Sirius sighed. “Guess it’s time to go home.”

-/-

Regulus was the one who’d answered the door.

Sirius froze, fist still raised to knock again. He lowered it, hands as shaky as they’d been when he’d received the text half an hour ago.

Regulus looked like shit: bags under his eyes, pallid skin, limp hair. His expression was dead and Sirius felt his stomach turn.

“I’m the only one here,” Regulus said after a moment. “Tonks told me to talk to you. Said we should talk. I’m getting it out of the way. Come in, I made coffee.”

He said it all with the inflection of a satnav.

Sirius followed him into the house, toeing off his shoes out of an absent deference for Andromeda. He hung his coat on the rack by the door, and by the time he got to the kitchen, Regulus was already seated, curled up in the chair by the window and nursing a mug of coffee. 

Sirius poured himself some. He usually took sugar and cream, but there was none on the table, and he already felt like enough of an oaf without clomping around the kitchen in search of them.

He sat across from his brother with a steaming cup of black coffee and waited for Regulus to say something.

It had started raining, and Regulus’s eyes were trained on the droplets of water convalescing and falling against the window pane. Regulus seemed utterly uninterested in his presence.

Sirius squirmed in his seat. “How are you?” he said after a while.

Regulus gave him a Look. “How do you think?”

Sirius, who’d endured more than three decades of his brother’s theatrics, found he was rather uninterested in another afternoon of them. The patience he’d told himself he would practice evaporated. He started reciting the rant he’d been churning over in his head the last few days. “Relieved now that you know the truth? Thankful to your brother for confronting Flynn? Regretful that you let him worry about you rather than communicating your state of mind to your closest and most loyal relative?”

“Do you have to be a smug prick about everything, Sirius?”

“Do you have to be a bitchy prima donna about everything, Regulus?”

Regulus set his mug down so hard a few droplets of coffee landed on the back of his hand. He wiped it on the side of his jeans, which their mother would have hated. Which was probably why he did it. “I didn’t want to know.”

“Wha-why would you not want to know?” Sirius sputtered, incredulous.

“Because I loved him!” Regulus said, raising his voice for the first time since Sirius had arrived. “Love him,” he amended. “I know you didn’t like him, but _I_ did, and I liked what we had. It’s not enough to fuck up your own love life? You had to fuck up mine too?”

Sirius blinked like his brother had slapped him. He would have preferred that, if only because that meant he would have been justified in slapping him back. For a moment he wished they were teenagers again, he wished they could get away with tackling each other to the floor and punching and kicking one another into agreement. He was getting tired of being an adult. Maybe because it required so much effort. Maybe because he was so spectacularly shit at it.

“What do you want me to say, Reg? I’m sorry you weren’t kept in the dark? I’m sorry he was out fucking who knows how many people without your knowledge?”

Regulus flinched. “He said it was only two or three,” he muttered, obviously aware how weak a retort that was.”

“Only two _or_ three,” Sirius scoffed. “He doesn’t even know himself?”

“He said he messed up… timelines. His apology was jumbled,” Regulus said, sighing. “He started crying halfway through.” He hugged his knees in tighter, and he didn’t look like a grown man, he looked like the little kid that used to follow Sirius around the house.

Sirius sighed and took a small sip from his coffee mug. He winced against the bitterness of it and went to go get the milk and sugar he’d been too much of a dramatic bitch to get in the first place. 

He was searching the drawers for a teaspoon when Regulus spoke again. “And now I’m homeless, and heartbroken, and instead of comforting me, my brother’s just pulling an _I told you so._ ”

Sirius slammed the drawer shut. “I never said ‘I told you so,’” he said, pointing at Regulus with the spoon. “And I’m sorry that I’m not mourning the relationship with you. He was a prick.”

“He was my prick.”

“Yours and half of England’s.”

“Fuck _off_!” Regulus threw a balled up napkin at him. It went over his head.

Sirius leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee, quietly seething. He wanted to punch a wall, or throw something bigger at his brother. Why was he being so fucking obstinant?

Regulus glared at him. “How would you feel if your precious Remus was cheating on you?”

“We’re not—”

“You want to be,” Regulus said, eyes daring him to interrupt again. “And if you were, and were together a long time — lived together, ate together, slept next to each other every night — if after all of that, you found out he’d been fucking people on the side, how would you feel? Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you’d just wash your hands of the whole thing and move on? You fucked him exactly once and were obsessed with him for _months_ . So don’t you dare,” he swallowed something down and continued, “don’t you _dare_ act like this should be nothing to me. I’m hurting, and I need you to be there for me.”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Pity,” Regulus said with an unkind smile, “because you have a knack for it.”

“I—”

“Just fuck off, Sirius,” Regulus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sirius was going to say something else, but he changed his mind. “Fine.” He poured the coffee down the drain and left.

He crouched down against the rain and darted over to his car. Inside, he shook his hair out and banged his head against the steering wheel.

“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself. “Fuck it all.”

He called Remus. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Remus!” Sirius said, voice bright, “how are you?”

“I’m uh,” was that the sound of a throat clearing? “I’m fine.”

“I was wondering if we could get together some time to discuss my new character,” Sirius said, charging on.

“Uh, sure. Sure. Thursday?”

“Thursday it is! I’ll see you then!”

“See you—”

Sirius hung up before he could say anything else.

-/-

They met in what felt very much like neutral territory: some generic-looking café far from both the university and Sirius’s shop.

Sirius arrived first, eight minutes early. He considered getting something to eat or drink, but the thought of food made his stomach turn. He sat in a table at the corner, hands folded in front of him, taking in shaky breaths that were supposed to be deep.

Nothing was wrong, he reminded himself. Or maybe something was wrong. He didn’t know. He never knew.

Remus arrived, looking nervous. Sirius stood up when he approached the table, feeling ridiculous. “Remus,” he said by way of greeting, just just stopping himself before he stooped into a bow.

“Sirius,” Remus said. “How’ve you been?”

He said it like a long time had passed since last they spoke, which it hadn’t. But it had.

“I’m good, how’ve you been?”

“I mean,” he scratched the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. “I’ve been better.”

“Is it about the last night we saw each other?” Sirius said, screaming internally.

“It… yeah. Yeah it is.”

“You’re okay talking about this?” Sirius asked, because he had to.

Remus nodded. “I owe you an explanation.” Because he did.

“So… what’s going on?” Sirius asked as he sat down.

Remus closed his eyes, and after a moment, he began talking.

“After the first night we met,” Remus said, opening his eyes and immediately focusing them on the table, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I liked you, but I knew who you were. I wanted to reach out, but I also felt like I couldn’t because my intentions to begin with were far from pure. I figured you’d figure out what had happened and hate me. Then when we started spending time together, I got hopeful, but I wanted you to make the first move.”

Sirius nodded, waiting for the punchline. In his mind, there was a room full of meters, and they were all turning red. Whatever he was feeling, he was feeling it a lot. But he kept his face as neutral as it could be kept.

“And for a while, I was thinking that everything was going well, that it was only a matter of time. All the flirting… and… well,” he cocked an eyebrow. “You weren’t _that_ reckless a player, right? Your character’s deaths weren’t all accidents?”

Sirius put a hand on his chest, pretending to look affronted. “Sir, are you implying that I killed off six characters on _purpose_?”

Remus laughed a little. “Yes.”

“Ah, well then. You’re right.”

Remus smiled, but the smile fell quickly. “And then after what happened in the closet… I just… look, Sirius, I didn’t want to go into his flat. I didn’t want to sneak around, and I didn’t want to hide in the closet… and as much as I… well… I’m sorry… that I… that we…”

Sirius nodded, cold understanding spreading across him. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I should be apologizing for putting you in that situation.”

“I… thank you. But… Sirius, I like you, I like you a lot…”

“But,” Sirius predicted, stomach sinking.

“But I don’t trust your judgement, I don’t… Flynn has been telling everyone I’m crazy for the last year and a half , and then he finds me hiding in his closet with the brother of his new boyfriend… whom I’d already slept with in a stupid, pathetic attempt at revenge.”

“Remus…”

Remus held up a hand to prevent him from saying anything further. “Please, let me get this out first. I like you, I really do, but I don’t know if you’re good for me. I’m trying to move past all of this petty bullshit, and…”

“And I pulled you back into it,” Sirius said, the dread finally taking full hold. How was it that he was getting dumped by someone he wasn’t even dating? “Remus, I’m so sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology,” Remus said blandly, with closed eyes. It was one of those polite sentences pieced together for someone trying to clamber up onto the highroad, likely sourced from a counselor or a book, like _I think there may have been some miscommunication_ or _thank you for your honesty._

“So,” Sirius said, “you like me, but you don’t trust me.”

Remus winced at the bluntness. “I’m sorry…” he began, and Sirius could sense the start of a retreat.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Sirius said. “Really,” he sighed. “You’re right. It was a properly shit thing to do.” It made sense, at the end of it all, that the reason it wouldn’t work out was that Sirius Black was an impulsive, stupid bitch.

Remus seemed to deflate a little, as if he was expecting more pushback than he got. With nothing to push _back_ at, he just blinked dumbly. “I… yeah, it was.”

“Is there anything I can do to earn your trust?” Sirius asked, hands on the table, fingers laced before him, back straight, eyes focused, the picture of a man who’d been raised to be an Earl.

“I… I honestly don’t know. I want to trust you, more than anyone I’ve met, but I have trust issues.” He gave Sirius an apologetic smile. “I’ve had bad luck with men.”

“Do you want me to leave the campaign?”

“No,” Remus said after a moment. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Sirius nodded. “Alright. Then should we make the new character?”

And they did. They made a druid, one who liked to hide in caves and spent more than a little bit of time turning himself into a shaggy black dog. Sirius couldn’t think of a name, so Remus suggested Padfoot.

They were cordial, kind. They didn’t dally, they didn’t discuss much else. They parted ways on good terms, and Sirius was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to keep food down for the rest of the day.

-/-

“What did you say was the capacity of your shop?” Chelsea asked, glancing over the tops of her reading glasses, tapping her pen against her notebook.

“From a fire safety standpoint,” Sirius said, “seventy-five. From a keeping Sirius sane standpoint? Thirty.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed. The rain was coming down harder, now. The only time they both had free that week was nearly ten at night, and the storming outside gave everything a clandestine feel he wasn’t expecting, but half appreciated. The Gays putting together their Agenda. “We’ll focus on the smaller events here then. Linda will be renting out her ballroom, as usual, so I’ll put the panels there.”

“How many events are you managing?” Sirius asked.

“Five, I think,” Chelsea said with a tired little smile. “Though I think Josie’s going to try to talk me into six. I’ll probably say yes,” she laughed a little.

“That seems like too much,” Sirius said, “even for you. Even for Pride.”

“Maybe,” Chelsea agreed. “But I don’t like letting people down. I haven’t been sleeping well, though. It’s getting in the way of some of my productivity.”

“Why haven’t you been sleeping well?” Sirius asked, frowning.

Chelsea hesitated for a moment, which didn’t look natural. She started ripping a spare sheet of paper into thin strips, her cheeks… 

No, Sirius thought, that certainly wasn’t a flush. Not from Chelsea.

She took her glasses off and set them down on the table. “Ever since what happened with Flynn… I don’t know. I’ve been feeling guilty, I guess. I know I didn’t do anything wrong… but… well…” she laughed ruefully. “Did you know that was the first time I’ve ever _actually_ been a homewrecker? Statistically, you would have figured it would have happened by now, but…” she shrugged, her eyes falling once more to the table.

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Chelsea,” Sirius said.

“I know,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She looked at him and gave him a little smile. “It’s been awhile since I’ve felt any guilt about sex, Sirius. I’m sure it’ll pass soon enough. How’s… how’s your brother doing?”

“I mean… not _great_.”

Chelsea nodded, solemn. “You know, I kinda sensed that something was off the whole time. His stories never added up, it didn’t all quite make sense… I… I knew he was hiding something from me. Or hiding me from someone…” She started doodling a flower in the corner of her notebook. “But I just ignored it. I wanted him, and I didn’t want to have to think about what could go wrong.”

“Alright,” Sirius said, holding his hands out in confusion. “I don’t get it. Does this fucker emit some pheromone everyone but me can smell? How is it, every successful and attractive person around me can’t resist him?”

Chelsea bit her lip, like she was really thinking about it. “I think it’s because all those ‘attractive, successful’ people you’re talking about have experienced some real rejection from the social order. My childhood wasn’t fantastic, and I’m good at hiding how it affected me, but it’s still there. Remus has issues of his own, and from what I’ve gathered from what you’ve told me about your parents, your brother probably has similar insecurities. Flynn’s… well, Flynn’s boring,” she admitted with an embarrassed little smile, “but he’s the kind of boring magazines and television and priests have told us we’re supposed to desire. And if he wants us… it’s a sort of validation. Like maybe we aren’t freaks after all.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Chelsea, I understand the other two, but you’re a rich blonde woman. Surely, despite what happened in your childhood, there’s plenty of men like Flynn who’ve wanted you?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “But not all of them were willing to submit to me and… I don’t know. Flynn has a knack for making you feel wanted. Has he ever hit on you?”

“God, no!” Sirius wrinkled his nose.

“Then you don’t know what it’s like. If he’d gotten to you before Regulus, who knows? Maybe right now I’d be comforting you about your breakup,” her face fell a little, “or maybe you wouldn’t want to speak with me, since I’d just slept with your boyfriend.”

“I refuse to believe that I would _ever_ date that prat,” Sirius sniffed.

“You know what they say,” Chelsea mused, “infinite universes… in some of them, you and that prat are married.”

“Impossible,” Sirius said. “Not even quantum physics could get around my disdain for that man. He’s caused me nought but grief.”

Chelsea laughed a little. “Maybe. So are we done here? I know Pride isn’t for a few months, but you know how these things go,” she checked her phone. “My circle’s meeting in a bit, I should probably head out.”

“I’ll let you know about the bulk pricing after I talk to my supplier,” Sirius said, closing his notebook.

Chelsea smiled and saw herself out.

Sirius gathered the stray pencils and bits of paper. His phone buzzed.

His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Remus’s name, then he felt the strange wooziness of his hopes all streaming out of your body.

**Hey, your brother came over tonight. He’s really drunk. Would you please come and pick him up?**


	8. Dispel Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this thing took forever. I have nothing to say for myself.
> 
> I can't think of any warnings for this chapter.

“So he just… showed up?” Sirius asked, looking between Remus and his brother, who was passed out on Remus’s sofa.

Remus nodded. “He knocked on my door and then… well… I guess the best word would be  _ propositioned _ me. It was hard to follow his reasoning, but essentially he told me we should sleep together because it would really make you angry. He seemed to be under the impression that I would be swayed by his argument. Then he tried to take his clothes off, but I stopped him and said I wasn’t interested. Then he cried and told me how much of an ass Flynn was. I didn’t disagree. Then I made him tea. Then he fell asleep. Then I called you.” Remus ran through the story without looking away from Regulus, who Sirius was going to  _ throttle _ halfway to China when he woke up.

“I… Jesus,” Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The Flynn effect. Scientifically recognizable, I think,” Remus said quietly, tugging at a pill on his jumper with his long fingers.

Sirius’s jaw tensed as an unexpected jolt of annoyance moved through him. There was something about Remus’s calmness that was… getting to him. He wasn’t sure why. The situation was objectively funny. They should have been laughing about it. There should have been banter. Awkward, “I don’t trust your judgement” conversation aside, they should have been having… what? Fun?

He looked back over at Remus, who looked calm. Except he didn’t, Sirius realized. He was fidgeting. And he wasn’t looking at Sirius. He was nervous and uncomfortable, too.

Some resentment he couldn’t name bubbled up inside him. He could taste it at the back of his mouth. It was familiar and old.

_ The fuck right does he have to be nervous? This is all my tragedy. _

Moony, who’d just finished his dinner and smelled like it, came padding along and sniffed Sirius’s by way of his finest javelin impression.

The sudden touch made Sirius want to jump up and leave, but he pushed it down. He scratched Moony behind his ear, and the dog just flopped his entire weight into Sirius’s side. The pressure of it was too much and he gently extracted himself, standing up and going over towards Remus.

All the while, Regulus slept on, face smooth and boyish as it had been when he was a teenager.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to drag him out on my own. If we both do it, your neighbors will probably assume that we murdered someone.”

Remus laughed a little at that, but he was starting to look embarrassed. “I… yeah, after you called you I started to think about logistics. I guess I was thinking that we could wake him up and you could drive him away, but maybe that wouldn’t work. Also it seems a little mean to wake him right now. He’s sleeping like the dead.”

_ So why the fuck did you ask me over? Why didn’t you  _ think _ about it? _ Sirius was starting to get the feeling that Remus was the sort of person who either thought too much of something, or didn’t think of it at all.

“Does this situation remind you of any poems you know?” 

Remus blinked. “What?”

“You know a lot of poems, right? Any poems about drunken booty calls from your ex’s newest ex? Any poems about fucking someone to anger your brother? Any poems about that?”

“Uh…”

It wasn’t working any more. It was sexy before, wasn’t it? Fun? It was all so fun before. What happened to all the fun? The simplicity? And why was he so _fucking_ _annoyed_?

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Sirius asked, and it sounded like an accusation.

“What?”

“A date,” Sirius said, the idea blooming in his mind. “I like you, okay? And you like me. And it shouldn’t be this fucking complicated. I know that you’re confused and you don’t trust me, and I get that. But I have been wracking my fucking brains trying to figure out where the fuck I go from here on. I don’t know how to live with the regret of not trying with you. So what if we go on a date? A simple, stupid date. Dinner and a fucking movie. We don’t even need to fuck — no, you know what? Let’s promise not to fuck. Goodnight kiss, if we’re feeling frisky. If at the end of it, we decide it isn’t going to work, we’ll close the fucking book and call it good. We’ll move on like grown ups. If it does go well, maybe we could try to just let it be simple.”

“And if I say no?” Remus asked, not really looking like he was going to say no. His arms were crossed and his brow was cocked and he looked like a professor. And also maybe a bit bitchy too. Sirius was still angry. Sirius was really angry. He felt ridiculous. Watching him rant was probably like watching a bee bang its head against a window again and again while ignoring the open window just barely to its left.

“If you say no,” Sirius said, deflating a little, “then that’s our answer.”

Remus glanced at Sirius’s brother, drooling now on the sofa. He looked back up at Sirius, and there was something sad in his eyes that made Sirius feel just a little less angry. “I’d like to go on a date with you, Sirius.” His voice was quiet. “I’d like that very much.”

-/-

“And so we loaded my idiot brother into a cab and I went home,” Sirius said, glaring at his mug. “And now I’ve got a date Saturday.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lily said.

“I… I feel crazy saying this, but I’m dreading it.”

“Do you think it’s nerves?”

“I think it’s more than that,” Sirius said. “I… I don’t know if I like him anymore. The whole time I was there… I felt frustrated. Annoyed with him. Nothing he did felt right. Even when I was walking away, I felt tense.”

James and Lily exchanged a Look. A Look Sirius had never had the privilege of sharing with someone. At least not like that — a Couple’s Look.

James turned back to Sirius. “A week ago you thought the sun shined out of his ass. What happened?”

“I know it’s stupid, alright? I think… there was this image of him in my head — he liked me, I liked him. Everything was perfect. Everything just worked. But that image isn’t true. He was this dream of a person, but now all I can think about are his inconsistencies, the hell I’ve been through since I met him. I feel like a stupid prick, but I’m really only now starting to see him as he is.”

“And what is he?”

“Just some bloke.”

“Right.”

“But you like him. You’re wondering if maybe you don’t, but you still kinda do.”

Sirius nodded. His head felt like a brick. “I do.”

“And he likes you.” James did not present that as debatable.

“Despite his best interests,” Sirius agreed.

“So what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Okay…”

“And  _ that’s _ the problem.”

“I see.” James nodded. “You’ve lost it.”

“Nah,” Lily said, “our little boy’s just growing up.”

Harry made a vaguely upset sound from the next room over, and James excused himself to investigate it.

Lily closed her eyes, doing that thing where she looked like she fell asleep for a moment. Sirius was about to let her, but then she said, “I think James went through something like that with me, you know.”

Sirius frowned. “I doubt that.”

“No, no,” Lily said, “it’s true. I promise. Remember when we were all in school together, and he worshipped the ground I walked on?”

“Vividly,” Sirius said.

“And then we dated, and he had that week or so when he became sort of… distant?”

“Are you referring to that time he drove to Brighton without telling us and accidentally broke a bar window because he bet someone he could jump over a table?”

“Right. Well, he did all of that because he’d finally started dating the girl he’d been pining over for as long as he could remember… and she was… well…  _ just some bird _ .”

“Lily, you are a goddess among women. Venus trembles in your presence. The sun stares down at you in envy.”

Lily nodded in quiet agreement. She scratched the back of her neck, jostling the haphazard knot her hair was in. A few Cheerios fell out. “But despite all of that, I still put my trousers on one leg at a time. James had to process my humanity, and he went a little mental. But eventually he came around, and now we’re the co-founders of a lovely little piss and shit factory.”

In the other room, James started singing a lullaby rendition of  _ Ballroom Blitz  _ to his son.

“Did you go through a similar thing with him?” Sirius asked. 

“Not really,” Lily said, “I’ve know he was a stupid idiot since we were eleven. Turns out he’s a stupid idiot with a heart of solid gold.”

Sirius smiled. “We’re lucky to have him in our lives. But never tell him I said that.”

Lily laughed. “I won’t. Either way, it probably won’t help much, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the date if you remember to remove your head from your rectum first.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius felt the usual butterflies-playing-ruby sensation in his stomach he got whenever he thought about Saturday.

“And I think you’ll ultimately find that dating an actual person is far more satisfying than dating a fantasy.”

“Mmmm,” Sirius hummed again.

Lily just gave him a sleepy smile as she rested her head against the kitchen wall. She closed her eyes. “Promise.”

-/-

“There’s got to be  _ something _ you can do,” Tonks said, stacking the little boxes. “I mean,  _ something. _ I know you had your little tiff.”

“He tried to fuck Remus!”

“Yeah, well you never would have met Remus if Remus hadn’t tried to fuck Regulus. Perspective.”

“I’m starting to think maybe that would have been for the best,” Sirius muttered.

Tonks rolled her eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Is there anywhere I can be free from the Brothers Black Pity Parade? You’d think you’d both be happy — you’ve got a date with Remus in a few days and Regulus dodged a bullet. But no. No one is more put upon than you two. No one suffers more greatly. No one—”

“I get it,” Sirius said, holding his hand up and slicing open the tape on the next box. He pulled the invoice out and gave it a quick inspection. “I’m sorry.”

Tonks pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re both going through some shit right now. But the room he’s staying in is  _ right  _ next to mine and he keeps watching sad movies at 3:00 in the morning.”

“So he hasn’t calmed down any more?” Sirius asked, guilt tugging at his gut.

“Now he’s moping because he  _ betrayed his brother _ and  _ made an ass of himself _ and  _ acted like a fucking child. _ I can’t keep up.”

Sirius checked 10 bullet vibrators off the invoice and slid them over to Tonks for pricing. “I’m sorry. This really isn’t fair on you. I’ll… I don’t know what I can do to make it better.”

“Apologize?”

“He’s the one who fucked up this time,” Sirius said, annoyed with himself even as he said it. “Tonks, never become a grown up. It’s crap.”

“Never intend to,” Tonks said. “So you’ll apologize?”

“I’ll consider it,” Sirius said. “Do you think you can drag him to the gallery thing on Thursday? Maybe I’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius said, mind racing.

-/-

Remus was wearing a tie.

Sirius took a seat across from him, heart racing in his chest. “You look nice.”

The familiar flush came to Remus’s cheeks. “Thanks, so do you. I mean, you always look nice but… but yeah.” He cleared his throat.

Something heavy in Sirius’s chest got a little lighter. He looked around them.

The place had been Remus’s suggestion. It was cozy, cluttered with twinkling lights and old photos. Jazz wafted from some speakers he couldn’t see. Waiters in black carted trays heaped with pasta and bread around. The beer list was jotted on a large chalkboard in a mechanical-looking hand. It all felt so very much like a date.

He was here. He’d arrived. This was a date. He could do it. He’d been on dates before.

Besides, maybe it’d be their last.

“Good evening, gentleman,” said a young woman with dark purple hair and a red tie. “My name’s Robin and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” She listed three special beers Sirius had never heard of and told them more about the cut of that night’s steak special than he cared to know.

Sirius ordered a safe sounding red ale, and Remus asked for the stout.

She went away and they were left alone. Just the two of them.

A little terrifying.

“So,” Remus said after a moment, “here we are.” He looked uncomfortable. Sirius wasn’t sure he wanted to change that. There was a stupid part of him that felt like this awkwardness was a sort of justice.

“Here we are,” Sirius parroted.

“What do you usually talk about on dates?”

_ Jesus,  _ Sirius thought,  _ now I get to do all the work. _

Sirius shrugged. “What everyone does, I guess. What do you do?”

“I’m a history professor,” Remus said, small smile tugging at his lips.

“Any pets?”

“A dog named Moony.”

“Hobbies?”

Remus gave him an apologetic little smile. “Dungeons and Dragons and fucking up.”

Sirius let out a surprised laugh. “Strange,” Sirius said. “Mine are the same.”

“Hmmm. Maybe some time we should play DND together.”

Sirius nodded. “Maybe some time we should fuck up together.”

Remus snorted up some of his water. 

“What do you usually do on dates?” Sirius asked as Remus dabbed his napkin on his shirt.

“In the rare situation where I actually  _ had _ a date?” Remus began with a wry smile, “Usually try to do everything in my power to seem likeable and smart and competent so they wouldn’t judge me.”

Sirius nodded. “I usually try to seem suave and confident and a little bit like a prick so they won’t start to develop expectations.”

“Hmmm. How often did they develop expectations anyway?”

“Oh, I followed the typical Three Phase model.”

Remus leaned forward. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that model. What are the phases?”

Sirius grinned. “Phase One: establish yourself as a mess early. Make jokes that are self deprecating and self destructive. Mention lots of drinking and parties and exes. Maybe imply that you’re planning on moving abroad in a month.”

“Alright,” Remus nodded. “I can see that.”

“They’ll congratulate themselves on managing to get such a desirable partner, but they won’t be thinking about linens or back gardens or meeting parents.”

“Phase Two?”

“This is usually on the third or fourth date. By now they are probably becoming attached due to my glittering wit, movie star looks, and sexual prowess.”

“And saintlike modesty.”

“That too. Anyway. I’ll start talking about how much I’ve appreciated their  _ friendship _ during this  _ phase _ of life.”

“Ooooh,” Remus laughed. “I can’t tell if that’s kind or cold.”

Sirius shrugged. “Anyone who tells you causal sex is heartless has little love for humanity. You don’t need a commitment for intimacy.”

“So is that something you usually had with your old flames? Intimacy?”

“I…” he paused. “Not always. I —”

“And here we are,” Robin said, setting their drinks down. “Terribly sorry about the wait. What are we thinking? Start with appetizers? Bread?”

They put in their order and she pulled away with a bright smile, her eyes lingering on Sirius for just a moment before darting away.

Remus noticed. “I think you have a fan,” he said.

“She’s out of luck. Where were we?”

“You were about to wax poetic about intimacy.”

“Was I?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, “but now I’m thinking I want to hear you do it.”

Sirius laughed. “What exactly about intimacy do you want me to lecture you on?”

“What’s your opinion of physical vs emotional intimacy?”

“They’re different.”

“Mmmm. Astute.”

“I don’t think either is really more important, and I don’t think you need to have both with everyone. You know what type of people annoy me?”

“What people?”

“People who hate small talk.  _ Especially  _ people who love to say that they hate small talk.”

“Why?” 

“Because small talk is a vital skill. Beyond that, it’s a way for us to make room for each other in the world. To pretend it has no value is shit. Do you want to have a bone-achingly deep conversation with everyone you meet?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Right. No one does. The only people who say they do are the absolute  _ wankers _ who are convinced that they’re the most fascinating minds on the planet. They say all this meaningless drivel and tell themselves it’s deep. Remus, what percentage of your daily thoughts would you consider genuinely interesting?”

Remus looked amused. He also looked like he was actually thinking about it. “I’d say maybe 5%. About 20% are about food. 10% is sex. The rest is probably neurotic worrying.”

“Fucking sensational. I appreciate your honesty. If I had to guess, I figure I’d be somewhere in the 1-2% range. Most of my philosophising comes right out of my ass. I’m making this up as I go. Never thought about it before.”

Remus rested his chin on his hand. “Think about it more now.”

“Yes, sir. So really, no one’s that interesting. The lucky few are occasionally interesting. And there is nothing more exhausting than going through life being convinced that you  _ have  _ to be interesting. Especially thinking you have to be interesting to all people all the time. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sirius,” Remus said, laughing. “I’m in academics _. _ ”

Sirius nodded. “Right. Now think about your parents, your closest friends. I’m sure you have interesting conversations, but I’d wager most of the time your conversations are very petty and mundane.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Do you enjoy them any less?”

“No.”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, hitting the table to emphasize the point he’d just made up. “Last week my friend James and I spent an hour talking about whether he should buy a PlayStation or an Xbox. Treasured time with my best mate.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “So would you consider not feeling the need to be interesting for someone a core component of emotional intimacy?”

“I think so. Not feeling you have something to prove.”

“But by that definition, wouldn’t you then have emotional intimacy with every stranger whose opinion you don’t give a toss about?”

“Thing is, I care deeply about what every stranger thinks about me. It’s once I  _ don’t _ care that you know you’ve made it.”

“So should I be offended that you’ve decided to critique society’s perceptions of valuable conversations?”

“Not at all,” Sirius said with a grin, “Remus, I’d be delighted to have a boring conversation with you. What’s something utterly mundane you did this week that still got you excited?”

“Today during my office hours, no one came in, so I culled and re-organized my Documents folder.”

“Amazing.”

“What about you?”

“Yesterday, I finally filed away my backlog of invoices and tidied my desk drawers.”

“You know,” Remus said, crossing his arms, “I  _ love _ that for you.”

“And here we are,” Robin said, arriving with their dinner. After being assured twice that they didn’t need anything else, she took another look at Sirius. “Alright,” she said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. You look awfully familiar — are you Tonks’ uncle?”

Remus stifled a snort and disguised it as a cough.

“I’m her cousin,” Sirius corrected with a serene smile. “Do you know her?”

Robin nodded. “I was thinking you looked a lot like her.”

“Do I?” Sirius asked. “I’ve never heard that before.”

Robin nodded. “You really do. You work in the shop with her, right?”

“It’s my shop, yeah,” Sirius corrected, completely unnecessarily.

“That’s so cool! You know, I bought this vibrator from you a few months ago and it’s  _ fantastic. _ I think it was from Fun Factory? It’s got a tie-dye kind of design? Shaped like…” she curled her fingers and stuck out her thumb. “Do you still carry it?”

“I… I think so?” Sirius said, amused.

“Great, because I was thinking about getting another one. Are you still doing those poetry readings on Thursdays?”

“Usually, but this Thursday there’s actually going to be more of a gallery event. Some of the pieces are Tonks’, so I’m making her give a speech. You should come.”

Robin smiled. “I think I will. Another round?”

She left to get more beer, and Remus cocked an eyebrow. “Do random people usually start talking about sex toys with you?”

“I mean, it is my job,” Sirius said breezily. “But no, waitresses don’t usually gush about vibrators in my presence. Not that it really bothers me. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Remus shrugged. “Not really. I am wondering why you decided to specifically invite her to the gallery thing. If she’s Tonks’ friend, wouldn’t Tonks have asked her?”

Sirius leaned in, grinning. “You see, I’m fairly sure Robin is the cute purple haired girl Tonks has been gushing about this month. I’m just helping some natural processes along.”

“Ah,” Remus nodded. “Meddling.”

“What are cousin-uncle boss-coworkers for?”

“Speaking of your family,” Remus said, “how’s Regulus?”

“Moping,” Sirius said, stomach tightening, “he’ll calm down soon. I’ve got a plan.”

“You’ve got a plan,” Remus repeated. 

“I do,” Sirius said, downing the last of his pint. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

-/-

“What was Phase Three?” Remus asked.

They were walking along the river. The sun was just starting to set, and everything was soft and gold and warm.

“Hmmm?”

“You said you had a Three Phase model, but you only told me the first two. What’s Phase Three?”

“Oh, right,” he thought for a moment. “Phase Three is usually once I’m ready to make the final exit. Are you ready for it?”

“I shiver with anticipation.”

“I ghost them.”

“Wow,” Remus laughed. “Not even a  _ it’s not working for me _ text?”

“Nah. I’m an asshole, remember?”

“Wouldn’t it be easy to just send the text and not have to deal with the  _ would you like to hang out this weekend? _ texts? The  _ why aren’t you talking to me?  _ texts? The  _ what did I do? _ texts?”

“Have you gotten a lot of those texts?” Sirius asked.

“No,” Remus said, “but I’ve sent them.”

“Ah,” Sirius said, “I don’t know. I guess it was always easier to just stop talking to them and ignore the texts. Less messy.”

“On your end.”

Sirius gave him an acknowledging nod. “Either way, I think I’m ready to put them to rest. I think I’ve outgrown the three phrases.”

“So what would you be doing instead?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said.

Remus nodded. “Well, this is my car,” he announced, pulling out his keys. “This was a very nice, regulation date. I’d be interested in going on another one, if you’d like.”

Sirius gave him a smile that felt like being naked. “I’d like that. We’ll find something desperately boring to talk about.”

“Ooh,” Remus fanned himself. “You really know how to sweet talk. I’ll be getting a new book case soon. If you like, we can discuss the three different ways I’m considering re-arranging by book collection.”

“I look forward to it.”

Remus let a little laugh out through his nose, then looked at Sirius, suddenly unsure. “Are we feeling frisky?”

“Are we… oh,” he leaned in and kissed Remus. It was fast and chaste and dry and over very quickly.

Remus smiled as they pulled apart, but his face fell a little. “I’m sorry about all the messiness. I was thinking I’d wished it was easy, too. I’m sorry it got so hard.”

“That’s what he said,” Sirius replied, though inside of him there was a party that felt like a combination of VE Day and his 18th birthday party.

But Sirius had something else to say. He let a long breath out through his nose. When he spoke, it was over a lump in his throat. “I’m really sorry that I dragged you into Flynn’s flat. That was uncalled for.”

“It was kind of funny, though,” Remus admitted.

Sirius smiled a little. “Like my brother attempting to seduce you.”

“It was a pretty weak attempt,” Remus said. “Besides, between you and me? You got the lion’s share of the good looks.”

“Aw, c’mon, Remus,” Sirius said with a grin, “that’s no secret.”

Remus laughed. “See you at session?”

Sirius nodded. “See you at session.”

Sirius watched Remus drive away and walked along the river a little more, feeling light and bright and like maybe, just maybe, things could be simple.


End file.
